


This New Life

by ohelrond



Series: Until the Breaking of the World [1]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christianity, Denali coven appreciation, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gen, Heterosexuality, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infant Death, Slow Burn, Yearning, carlesme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26821996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohelrond/pseuds/ohelrond
Summary: A story focusing on Esme from the time she was changed by Carlisle, to their marriage in 1929. Canon compliant for the most part but there are timeline changes - Carlisle and Esme do not get married until the end of the decade. Edward leaves earlier and comes back earlier. They learn what it means to fall in love not only with each other, but with themselves. Slow burn, Carlisle/Esme heavy, Edward is a good son who loves his parents.Cameos from the vampires later known as the Denali coven. Rated teen for significant mentions of past suicide and domestic violence.A real passion project of mine, and hopefully satisfying for all lovers of Esme and Carlesme.
Relationships: Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen
Series: Until the Breaking of the World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959850
Comments: 121
Kudos: 97





	1. This New Life

It had been an uneventful night. Hunting in the forests around the city was easy. The miles of undisturbed woodland were home to rich ecosystems, and life flourished there. Mostly deer darted from clearing to clearing across the acres, and the occasional bear could be found on a lucky hunt. This time, Edward had kept it simple, and feasted on deer. He didn’t like to hunt alone but with Carlisle being needed at the hospital, he had had no choice but to take this solo trip. Carlisle could last weeks without hunting, but it was merely days for Edward. Four years since the change, and it was still thirst that drove his every move. No human had fallen victim to him, but that was mostly because of his and Carlisle’s careful monitoring of his needs. Better to overindulge in the forests than slip on the streets, Edward thought grimly to himself. Carlisle would have put it more eloquently. 

There were some splatters of blood on his dark clothes, he noticed, as he sprinted back towards the sleepy town of Ashland. No matter, that was the purpose of these casual clothes. When Carlisle did need to feed, he often went straight from the hospital and came home without a speck on his suit, but he told Edward that much practice was needed before he could come home clean. No matter. He had the rest of time. Carlisle had told him that he did not need to feed for a few days yet so he would be pulling a long shift in the hospital, and so it surprised Edward to hear his thoughts as he came within a few miles of their home. It was set aside from the main town, hidden down a long drive and in a thicket of trees. Carlisle’s thoughts alarmed him. 

_ Please no, please God save her, keep her!  _

Edward was a blur as he sprinted through the trees, and he caught Carlisle’s trail meeting his path from the east. Sweet human blood mingled with it and Edward clamped his mouth shut to keep the scent at bay. Newborn he was no longer, but this was great temptation. 

“Carlisle?” he called out as he flew into the house, his voice strained. The scent of blood was thick in the hallway, but it was old blood, congealing and thickening as it attempted to close deep wounds. Edward felt his meal slosh inside of him, but it did not stop the searing flames at the back of his mouth. He followed the scent swiftly into the reception room to the left of the front door. 

Carlisle knelt over a body on the couch, touching at the wrist and throat. Edward had never seen a body so mangled. 

Shards of shin bones split the skin of the legs which were bent out of shape entirely, flesh and muscle torn, and the spine was clearly broken, Edward could see, from the way the human’s body lay. Thick bruises flowered across the bare stomach, indicating enormous internal bleeding, and the blood pooling from a torn ear suggested damage to the brain. Despite the horrific injuries suffered, the face was peaceful. A pretty, heart-shaped face with blood-matted curls around it. She looked happy in death. 

Her body was bare, but Carlisle didn’t seem to have noticed. His thoughts were racing, desperate.  _ Please don’t let her die, please God, please! I beg of you, let her live! _

“Carlisle!” Edward barked, his creator’s panic infecting him too. He drew in a quick breath and felt his throat scorch. “What’s going on?” 

Carlisle did not look up from the body, but he quickly replayed his memories. Walking past the morgue on his way out of the hospital, a faint beating heart. Pulling the draw open when no one was in the room, seeing her face, knowing her face. A hand on her cheek, the warmth already leaving her, and suddenly he was biting her chest, teeth sinking into her skin just over her heart. The rush of her blood on his tongue, the weak pulse as he pressed his teeth into the inside of her elbow, the way her skin tasted. Edward couldn’t stop a moan of longing as he tasted her sweet blood in his memories, and vemon flooded his mouth. He swallowed thickly and covered his mouth and nose with his hand as Carlisle’s apology moved through his mind. Stealing her body away and flying through the night, begs and pleads to God to keep her alive. 

“You bit her?” Edward asked in shock. “Why?” 

_ I couldn’t leave her.  _

“Do you know her well?”

_ I knew her once, when she was a child.  _

Memories of a sweet girl, not much younger than Edward when he was changed, filled Edward’s mind. Her leg was crooked and her eyes were watering from the pain, but she was cheerful and sweet, and she looked at Carlisle treating her with such adoration. Her heart-shaped face was turned to look at him with curiosity and happiness when he explained the splint he was fastening to her leg, and the healing process, and that he would return to her home soon to check up on her. After he gathered his bag together and left the farmhouse she called home, he heard the girl’s father remark that she was sixteen, old enough to marry, and the doctor had taken such a shine to her, perhaps that was a route to pursue. A marriage to a doctor was nothing to be scoffed at. Edward felt Carlisle’s uneasiness was he walked away in his memory, but it was soothed when the girl’s laughter sounded and she declared herself in no mind to marry until she was at least one-and-twenty and that it would be to a man of her choosing, but if she found one as half as kind and gentle as the doctor she would be well pleased. Whilst the suggestion from her father had been unpleasant, and Carlisle had no interest in a wife, let alone a child-bride, her estimation of his kindness and gentleness had made him glad. She had been such a sweet and happy child, the memory of her spirit had cheered him for a long time. 

“Are you sure it’s her? She looks so… different.” 

The girl in the memory had been freckled and round, her father’s clear success at farming putting plenty of food on the table. This woman was pale and thin, the only swell at her hips and breasts. Her stomach was distorted and soft, the figure of a new mother. A very new mother. She could not have given birth more than a few days ago. 

“It’s her scent.” Carlisle spoke aloud for the first time, and his voice came out as a choke. He held her hand and bent his head over it, letting himself sob tearlessly. “What have I done?” 

Edward couldn’t go to comfort his father. The blood was close to overwhelming him, and the shock was, too. Red started to cloud the edges of his vision and the hellfire in his throat made him want to tear whatever life was left in her out. 

“I’ve got to go,” Edward managed to tell him. His voice was close to a growl, close to a moan of pain. “I’ll be back when it’s over.” 

_ Don’t go far. _ Carlisle’s thought was a beg. He needed his companion close. 

In a heartbeat, Edward threw himself from the house and called back “I won’t!” before flying back into the woods. He stayed within a mile radius, close enough to hear Carlisle’s thoughts. 

Over the first day of the change, Edward watched through Carlisle’s thoughts as the wounds began to heal themselves. Bones snapped back into place, skin knitted itself back together. The swell that had kept a baby safe sank, and her body returned to normal. Carlisle waited for the healing to be complete before removing the blankets from atop her and dressing her, instead. Edward watched with numbness as Carlisle dressed the woman in his own clothes, trousers and socks and a shirt and jacket, an outfit Carlisle often wore to church. What else was he to do, Carlisle asked himself in despair, but this? He could hardly march into a ladies’ boutique and buy a dozen dresses, what in God’s name would the staff think? The story here was that Edward was the brother of Carlisle’s dead wife and it was a town small enough that everyone knew it! The ladies in the shop would think Carlisle had a fancy woman, and that would displease the hospital board. No, these clothes would have to do. 

Edward mused on thi. Would it really matter what she was wearing? Given the changes she had undergone, her clothes would be the least of her worries, no doubt. He remembered his own jarring experience of opening his eyes for the first time and seeing everything, hearing everything, smelling everything. Carlisle might as well have been dressed as a can-can dancer for all Edward would have noticed compared to the rest. 

Edward didn’t like this change. Not if it meant he had to share Carlisle. After a lifetime of wanting, finally he had a father he loved and who loved him in return, and they were happy, relatively. Carlisle told him he loved him, that he was proud of him, and that he would give him as much of the world as he could. To share that kind of love would be difficult. They were a family now, and Carlisle hadn’t even asked him if he wanted to let someone else join them. 

After a while, he could hear hints of her thoughts. She was in Hell, of course, and she was frightened. She screamed often. Screams for mercy, screams for God, screams for death, screams for nothing. Her eyes had not yet opened, but that was her choice. Terror stopped her. She thought whatever was burning her like this was too terrible for sight. 

Carlisle hadn’t dared to speak to her yet because he didn’t want her to associate him with this pain. Of course, he was the one who had caused it.  _ No _ , he had  _ saved _ her, that was all, Edward reminded himself. If Carlisle had chosen to save her, there must have been a reason. As unsettling as this development was, Edward would stand at Carlisle’s side and welcome this stranger into their lives. 

On the second day, no human blood remained in contact with the air, and Edward could return home. 

The house smelled different, he noted, as he walked slowly up the porch and through the front door. Flowers. They were everywhere. Wildflowers from the overgrown garden and surrounding forest were in pots and vases on every surface of the lounge, colourful and fresh and he breathed in the smell deeply. It was nice. 

The couch was broken and had been pushed under the front window, and the woman was now on the floor, still and silent. Carlisle kept his vigil at her side. Nail marks in the wooden floor reminded Edward that it was not always this peaceful. 

He stood in the doorway for a long moment but his father did not look up at him. It was difficult to know what to say now. His father’s mind was scattered and chaotic, and unusually loud. Edward cleared his throat. “So… flowers?” 

Carlisle’s head jerked up and he looked at Edward with grief in his flawless face. “I thought…”  _ She thinks she’s in Hell. She won’t open her eyes. I want her to know she is somewhere safe and good, and I didn’t know what else to do.  _

There was a naivety in Carlisle despite his age, and Edward couldn’t help but smile softly. The floorboards creaked as he slowly walked over to Carlisle and knelt beside him. He wrapped an arm around his father’s shoulders, and Carlisle leaned into him wearily. “She deserves life, Edward. She is good, and kind, and when I knew her she made others so happy.”

Edward watched when Carlisle remembered how her family had gathered around her in her bed as he treated her, how she had made them laugh despite her pain, and later when he had been in the small parish church on a Sunday the kind words the other worshippers had for her when they had enquired with him after her condition. Only two weeks had kept him in her small town, but he had learned much about that bright child in that time. 

Edward could already feel his own hesitation fade a little. This creation of a new vampire may force him to share his beloved father, but if she had turned into a kind woman the way Carlisle remembered her as a child, perhaps she would be worth it. If she accepted this life, and if she stayed. 

Barely a second had passed since Carlisle spoke, when her thoughts came crashing into Edward’s mind. His head jerked to look at her, and his lips parted when her blue eyes met his. 

“Who are you?” she cried out desperately. At her side, her fists curled tightly until her arms trembled with the force. Her body twitched as if she wanted to get up and run, but the agony of the change held her in place. 

Edward slowly reached out to take her hand but she cried out, her face contorted in terror. “Please! No!”  _ Don’t hurt me even more, I can’t take it! Please let me die!  _

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Carlisle soothed. Her dark eyes flitted to him and the air left her lungs. The sight of him was overwhelming her. 

“She remembers you,” Edward told him quietly. Her memories were muddy, though, and she had forgotten his face. In her human memory, he had faded to a bright figure with shining hair and a kind voice, a person to whom she had clung when things were bad. “She never forgot you.” 

“Am I in Heaven?” she asked, her voice straining through sobs. Tears streamed down her cheeks. There was enough human left in her, then, that another day still was to come of this. “I would never see you in Hell.” 

Carlisle was in agony. How highly did this poor girl think of him? Little did she know he was barely more than a monster. What a life he had forced upon her. “Miss Platt,” he soothed, and when he reached out for her hand she did not beg him to stop. It did not stop the sobs that ripped from her, though. “It’s alright. You’re not in Hell, sweet girl. You fell from a cliff, you were on the brink of death. But you have been brought into a new life.” 

“I-” she gasped, but the fire inside her blazed suddenly stronger, and she cried out. Her eyes were forced shut and her thoughts were almost unreadable. 

There was only one sentiment left.  _ I want to die. _

Carlisle looked at his son helplessly, but Edward shrugged apologetically. “She’s in too much pain to speak.” 

Carlisle nodded. His dark eyes did not leave Edward’s for a long moment, as he asked his silent question.  _ Have I made a mistake?  _

The deep sigh Edward took was a learned behaviour, not an instinct, but it helped him steady himself. “You made no mistake with me. I can’t speak for her, but she remembers you fondly, and I think she trusts you. The pain she is in, though… it’s not just the change. There’s something else.” 

“What?” 

Although her thoughts were blurry and muddled, Edward could get a glimpse at what else agonised her. He glanced down at where the woman was twitching and sobbing, and looked away. Carlisle rested a finger under his chin and brought his gaze back up to meet his own. “What is it, Edward?” 

Edward met his dark eyes. “She didn’t  _ fall  _ from that cliff, Carlisle. She jumped.” 

\--------------------------------

It took three days for the change to be complete. Despite that being shorter than Carlisle and Edward’s turns, neither of them envied her. The damage to her body had been catastrophic, but from Edward had gleaned of her mind, her heart could not be so easily healed. Blurry human memories keyed the two vampires into her story, and together they began to quietly piece together how sweet Esme Platt had ended up broken at the bottom of a cliff and left for dead. The memory of a baby succumbing to his mortality only two days old pained both of the men, and it was only made worse when she cried out for him. 

“My baby!” she sobbed, thrashing on the floor and cracking two of them with her fists. Newborn strength was coming to her quickly now. A moment later, her hand flew above her head and crashed into the stone fireplace, leaving a dusty hole on the ornate side of it. “Did you-? Did you save him?” 

Carlisle’s face was a picture of misery. He hadn’t left her side once, and he held her hand and stroked it in an attempt to soothe her. Esme clamped her fingers hard against him in response and he winced, the sound of his flesh cracking making Edward tense. Together they managed to pry her hand away again and Carlisle looked as if he didn’t even know where to begin. Again and again, he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words and failing. 

“No, Miss Platt, we couldn’t,” Edward answered softly after a long pause. His father grasped his shoulder in a silent thanks. “I’m so sorry. Your sweet boy was too young for this life, his soul has passed-” 

She let out a noise to cut him off that chilled Edward to his very core. Never had he heard anything like it, and he hoped never to again. The tortured cry that ripped from her trembling body haunted him. Esme sobbed and sobbed, until her tears ran dry. It took all night. Neither of them men left their vigil at her side. When silence fell over her again and she endured her pain with her teeth clenched and eyes shut, Edward began quietly talking to her. 

With the help of Carlisle, he talked about this life. About the speed, the strength, the everlasting youth, and about feeding. About discretion, too, but about the delights of this life as well. His father clasped his hand in gratitude when Edward told her about himself and Carlisle and their life, and how it was difficult, but brilliant. He could see in her mind that she listened to everything they said, and that when she heard Carlisle’s voice, every time, there was a light in her mind, as if he were bright. Clearly the memory of him was nothing but positive. 

“It’s subsiding,” Edward murmured as daylight filtered into the lounge. The sky was heavy with rain-soaked clouds this morning, but the winds were still and the sleepy town was quiet, and they both hoped the forests would be peaceful for Esme to take her first hunt. “Her pain. She can feel her fingers and toes again.”

There was amazement in Esme’s mind as slowly the fire abated, and eventually disappeared altogether, from her fingers and toes. Slowly, the pain was gone as if she was pulling herself from the water, fading smoothly up her legs and arms, up her stomach and chest and neck, over her chin and cheeks and nose until suddenly-! 

The fire was gone. 

Edward and Carlisle watched warily as, slowly, Esme sat up from where she had been lying on the floor and she turned away from them to look towards the window. They held their kneeling positions on the floor but Edward was ready to spring into a crouch if the need arose. Carlisle’s thoughts were not on defence, only to ensure she was well and safe. They had talked to her throughout her transformation and had prepared her as best they could, but he knew that newborns were unpredictable and dangerous when felt threatened. It stood to reason, then, that as long as they did not threaten her, she posed no danger to them. Edward’s frozen position, tense and stressed, told him that his son did not feel quite the same way. 

“Esme?” Carlisle asked tentatively. “We’re here for y-”

In a split second, the newborn threw a frightened, red-eyed glance over her shoulder at them and hissed, and so quick that Carlisle and Edward could barely follow, she had thrown herself forward through the front window, breaking the glass and frame with an ear-splitting smash and ended up in a defensive crouch on the front lawn. 

“She’s terrified,” Edward murmured to Carlisle, “but she’s not angry. She won’t attack us.” 

Carlisle nodded in response and walked at a human pace to where the window had just been. He called over to her in a kind voice. “This is a lot to take in, we know, but we’re here to help you. Do you remember what we talked about during… during your change?” 

Esme remained poised in her crouching position, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger, but she looked at the blond man and knew she was safe with him. Some part of her knew that, at least. Opening her mouth, she heard her new, lilting voice for the first time. “Carlisle. You saved me.” It felt strange using his name, but it was how he, and Edward, had spoken of themselves, using their Christian names. 

Carlisle’s head snapped to look at Edward, and his son nodded in encouragement. 

_ Should I go to her? _

Edward nodded again. “She’s frightened, but she remembers it all.”

Slowly, he stepped through the broken windowframe and down the porch steps with his hand outstretched toward her. She watched him with wide eyes, body held close to the ground. A low growl sounded in her chest, but it took her by surprise and she blinked. 

“It’s alright,” Carlisle soothed, a soft smile on his face. She let him closer without another noise, and he stepped closer until he was before her, crouching to be at her eye level. “Are you thirsty?” 

Esme’s hand flew to her throat and tasted the fire there. It was an echo of the pain that had ceased only moments ago, and it made her growl again. “It hurts,” she said quietly. 

Carlisle nodded sympathetically, and moved to touch her cheek but she flinched away. It surprised him for a moment, as Edward did not move away from his affection, but he reminded himself this was not Edward, this was a new vampire who had been a kind and gentle woman not a week ago. For her sake, Carlisle hoped she still was now. Despite the violence of her injuries, his bites, and her change, he prayed to God that she remained otherwise unchanged. 

“I know. Let’s find something that will help.” 

Esme licked her lips, tasting the venom on her tongue for the first time, and she glanced over Carlisle’s shoulder at Edward. A mind reader, that was what he had described himself as when he had spoken of himself during her change. He was listening to her thoughts now, she realised, and he talked to her quietly. It was a shock that she could hear his voice with ease, even at this distance. 

“It’s confusing, it really is. But Carlisle will help you now, as he says. You’re safe with him.” 

His kind smile reassured her, although Esme could not understand why. But she trusted him instinctively, and when he said she was safe, she believed him. Returning her gaze to Carlisle, she took in a deep breath and caught the scent of every tree, every raindrop, every creature nearby, and it shocked her. 

“Close your eyes,” Carlisle told her gently. Without hesitation this time, she obeyed. “Now tell me; what can you hear?” 

_ Everything. I can hear it all.  _

Birds, insects, leaves, stones, bark and wood and dirt wind, it all filled her mind and threatened to overwhelm her, until suddenly one noise cut through the rest and she tasted her venom again. To the west, a thick, wet heartbeat. Her red eyes flew open. 


	2. First Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like at university, I didn't proof read this before posting. Please ignore grammatical errors or spelling errors, you get what you get.

Esme set off at a sprint. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was hoping to find, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her new body was alien and it frightened her how fast she was going, although in a strange way, time no longer behaved in the same way, either. The rush of the wind whipped at her as she sprang through the trees at impossible speeds, but instincts told her that she was in no danger of colliding with them, or falling or tripping either. Carlisle was already well behind her as her strides were twice the length of his and the sound of his heavy footfalls faded into the distance. Ahead, the sound of a wet heart focused her. 

With almost no effort at all, Esme found she could stop her ferocious pace as soon as she had started it. Without skidding, she froze in place, her speed faster than sound one moment, and then gone the next. The world about her was quiet in this spot. She stood, half concealed behind a broad tree trunk, the breeze lifting the branches above her, and misty rain silently settling on the ferns and moss that blanketed the floor for miles. Not far in the distance, a black bear pushed its snout through the undergrowth in search of a snack. Esme could hear its heartbeat and she swallowed thickly. It didn’t sound right. It didn’t make her want it. 

During her change, Carlisle and Edward had told her that she would now be sustained on blood, and that the best source for that was animals, particularly carnivorous ones. Whilst it did not always taste the most appealing, and the sensation would never truly quench her thirst, it would become easier over time. When the wind changed and the bear’s scent was blown in her direction, Esme winced. No, it was  _ not _ appealing. But the fierce burn at the back of her throat was making the edges of her vision blurry and red, and she crouched. 

Two enormous leaps, and Esme had flown through the mist to land on its back and push it to the floor. Its almighty roar was cut off quickly as she sank her teeth into its neck where its strong pulse pulled her, the creature gurgling as life was sucked from it. Her arms pressed against the gigantic body and she barely noticed how easily the bones crushed in her embrace. She drank and drank until no more blood flowed, but it wasn’t enough. Even when the broken carcass fell away from her, completely drained, she wasn’t sated. Full, yes, but sated? No. It scared Esme when she realised how wild she felt, a belly full of blood that sloshed and her mouth tasting dirty, when she realised eyes watched her from a distance. She sank smoothly into a crouch and bared her teeth in a loud hiss. When Carlisle came closer, she didn’t relax her pose, but she slowly felt the drive of the hunt ebb away. 

“How do you feel?” he asked gently, still fifty yards away in the trees. Despite the foggy rain, Esme could see him through the fine water in the air as clear as if he were standing next to her. 

“Bad,” she replied, surprised to hear the venom in her voice. It wasn’t nice to see him walk closer to her and she crept back, keeping the same distance between them as he moved forward. As soon as he saw what she was doing, however, he stopped and reached out his hand in a peace offering. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her kindly. 

Esme’s eyes widened. That was not the first time she had heard that, and it was so often a lie not to be believed that as she stood with her back against a thick tree trunk, she didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, everything was completely overwhelming. A week ago, how bright the world had looked. Her labour had begun in a clean, safe hospital and the doctors had been pleased with her progress. Nurses checked in on her now and again, reassuring her that all would be well and her baby would be delivered soon. How exciting it had been, knowing that her new life was about to begin. 

How short that life was. A few hours, perhaps, maybe less? When the nurses stopped smiling and two doctors were called, that was when the darkness came. Within three days her sweet boy was gone. It took only hours for the grief to come, and she had taken her long walk atop a short cliff. Then pain, so much pain. Angels, demons, fire, ice. Pain. 

And then  _ everything _ . The world was suddenly so much, so much to see and hear and smell and feel, she wanted to shut it off so badly. She closed her eyes and thought back to her first clear memory, less than an hour old. An old house, broad windows, every particle of dust visible in the dim morning light. Birds chirping in the distance.  _ No, think before that _ . Before that was darkness and pain, and dim voices and blurred faces. Two men, reassuring her and telling her stories, affirming that they meant her no harm. One of them answered questions that she had not spoken, that was Edward, the one with darker hair, and she had been glad for that, for the most part. He had told the other that she had jumped. There was shame in that. The other was the man in whom she had placed her wildest dreams, her fantasies of a happy and blissful life when her own life had treated her so poorly, the kind and handsome doctor who had been kind to her. Who was he really? 

“Please go,” she whispered, frozen in fear. 

“Miss Platt,” he replied quietly, his brow furrowed in quiet concern. “I won’t leave you.” 

“Please,” she echoed, breath hitching. 

“I’m going to look after you.” 

He took another slow step forward but Esme did not retreat this time. His words lacked the venom of the last man who had promised her that. She stood up straight and clenched her hands into fists behind her back. “Thank you for your concern, but-” she began, her voice strained and formal. Her stress had replaced all feelings of familiarity she had with the fair man now. “But I like to look after myself.” 

“I know. I can tell.” Carlisle smiled faintly at her. He glanced around and spotted a group of large fallen boulders not far from the bear carcass, and walked over to it at a mortal pace. He brushed moss from the flat of one of the rocks and sat down, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap as naturally as if he were in an armchair in his home. His golden eyes watched her. “Would you like to come and sit with me?” 

After a long moment of hesitation, Esme flitted closer to him. Twenty yards now separated them, and she remained on her feet. It was surprising that she felt as comfortable standing on her feet now as she had been before lying in bed. This was as close as she wanted to get now, and he seemed to understand that. 

“You said you feel bad,” Carlisle said, breaking the quiet silence. His kind eyes did not leave hers. “Is there anything I can help with? Do you have questions?” 

“You said drinking an animal would help,” Esme answered immediately. “It doesn’t.” Her hand flew to her throat. “It still burns.” 

“Does it burn like it did before?” 

She considered this for a moment, chin lifting slightly. “No. I… I apologise.” 

“Please don’t apologise, Miss Platt.” 

Esme dug her fingers into her neck when he called her that again and she had to wrench her hand away before she did herself any damage. “Our lives are to be intertwined now, are they not?” 

It was difficult to tell if he looked sad or not at the question. “For now, they must be. You ought to have a guide during your first year of this life, although I will never force you to stay. After that, you will know enough to make your own way in the world.” 

“I don’t know what I want.” 

“Did you know what you wanted when you were human?” 

It was a gentle question but it hit Esme like a train. Her lips parted as pain tore through her chest. It was a dull pain, though, as if her heart was yearning to forget it. But it was enough to lean back against a nearby tree for support. “I wanted to die.” 

Finally, Carlisle broke their held gaze and he looked away in shame. He knew he had taken that from her. 

Esme didn’t like to see that in this kind man, and she continued. “I don’t know what I want now.” 

It was the truth. She had lost every life she had built up as a human; her married life, her runaway life, her child. Perhaps this was her new chance. Or perhaps it was her final test, one that she was still allowed to fail. “Before that, I only ever wanted a simple life. A safe home, a husband who loved me, children who would share their joy with me. When I lost those dreams, I had nothing left because life wasn’t worth living if I was living it just for myself.” 

Carlisle listened in silence. He felt sad for her. He remembered the ways in which he had attempted to end his own life when there was nothing left to live for. Perhaps he would share this with her one day. As her creator he already felt as if his heart was bound to hers by threads of gold. Another thread wove between them as he listened to her experience that sounded so familiar to him. 

“This is a new life, though, isn’t it?” she asked him. Small steps had brought her closer to him, as if she was afraid to be nearer, but he smiled slightly at the sign of her growing a little more comfortable. 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Is this Death, Carlisle?” 

The silence that filled the air lasted a long time. It was a complicated question, and the longer Carlisle left it unanswered, the more tense Esme became. She returned to ice until he spoke. 

“I do not believe so,” he murmured. “We have different signs of life in us than other creatures, and we can still be destroyed. We do not age and we are more resilient, but yes, we can still die, and to me that indicates that this life is not death. It is just a different life.” 

The pain in Esme’s chest flared again and she pulled her jacket around her more tightly. Only now did she recongise that she had been clothed in a man’s suit that was now bloody and muddy from her feeding. Carlisle’s scent clung to it, and she realised that she must have been stripped bare and dressed by the men. Carlisle was a doctor; she hoped it had been just him. How much  _ he _ would hate to see her dressed like this. 

“You look troubled by that.” 

Esme nodded and ran her fingers over the soft tweed of the jacket. “I took a vow that death would have released me from, Doctor.  _ ‘Til death us do part _ . If I am not dead, then I remain bound, and you must call me Mrs Evanson.” Her voice was higher as stress took over, and she struggled fiercely against the urge to flee from the spot, but there was no aggression or malice in her voice. 

“But I thought- You wore no wedding ring, I-” 

Esme glanced up at him and he looked devastated. Perhaps he thought he had torn a woman away from her loving husband and had ripped apart a family. She wanted to cry, but no tears would come. “I was not living as his wife.” 

Carlisle’s expression changed to that of confusion. 

“I ran from him,” she explained quietly. “The first time I ran, he found me but I was more careful the second time. I didn’t want to bring my child into his world.”

Silence fell between them. It was not comfortable, as Esme felt ashamed, and she could feel Carlisle’s pity rolling off him but it was clear he was at a loss for words. No response was better than her parents’ response, at least.  _ Be quiet and endure it _ , her mother had once told her in what she clearly thought was a kind and loving voice.  _ It’s a sign of his devotion to you, that you ignite such passion in him. You should be careful not to provoke him, though, dear.  _ What a foolish woman her mother had turned out to be. As if violence and terror were signs of devotion. Esme felt a snarl rip from her at the memory and Carlisle sprang back. 

“I mean you no harm,” he told her gently. “I’m sorry for pushing you.” 

Esme shook her head quickly and for the first time noticed what a state her hair was in. Dried blood matted and darkened her soft curls, the texture of it suddenly irritating her skin. How dreadful she must look, caked in mud and blood and bear fur that clung to it congealing on her. Suddenly it overwhelmed her, just as her thirst had, and just as her sorrow had, and she had to get clean. Troubled, she made a note to ask Carlisle if every emotion would threaten to overcome her, if that was another condition of this life. But for now, she had to get clean. 

“I have to go home,” she told him. “I have my clothes and books and belongings and-” And a nursery prepared. Her cousin had sent her the money to buy a small cot for the baby, and a whole array of woolen blankets, thick and warm, and they sat in a small room in her small house awaiting her return. “I need time to right myself.” How unladylike of her to speak to practically a stranger like this, but she reminded herself that he was a doctor and surely he would have heard much worse before. Still, Esme wondered if she was blushing. In embarrassment, in sadness, in shame. 

Carlisle’s expression was different. Not afraid, not wary, not embarrassed anymore, but still tense. Slowly, he shook his head. “That is not possible, I am afraid, Miss Platt,” came his apologetic reply. It was a relief to hear that he had not addressed her by her husband’s name. Clearly he was at least a little perceptive. 

“Why?” 

“You have been pronounced dead. You were identified when you were first brought in, and they matched you to your medical records here. Because of… what happened, they will be able to determine your cause of death, rule it a tragedy, and your posessions and property will be turned over to the state. Am I to assume you lived under an alias here?” 

Esme nodded, eyes wide, as she realised what this meant. “My husband will not know that I’ve died? Nothing will go to him?” 

“Nothing.” 

“And my family… they… they will never know?” 

“Perhaps they might. Did you have any family who knew of your alias?” 

Esme pulled on the front of the jacket nervously and with scarcely a flick of her finger, a button popped off. The speed with which she bent over to pick it up and then straightened up again frightened her. What  _ was _ she? “My cousin, Adelaide. I stayed with her the first time, and she had my address. I suppose after her letters go unanswered, she might… she might grow concerned. Perhaps even come here to make sure I’m well.” She looked at Carlisle through the trees with sudden coherence to her thoughts. “If she comes here, will she be able to know what happened to me?” 

Carlisle nodded again. “Yes. Your death will be marked in the parish records. If they are kind, they will not rule it a suicide.” 

“But my body is missing.” 

“You would be surprised how often bodies can go missing, between the hospital and the cemetery. You will have no grave, but your death will be noted.” 

“You’re a doctor here, and you’re well respected?” she asked, holding him in place with a careful stare. 

“Yes.” 

“Is there anything you can do?” 

“In what way?” he asked carefully. It would be so easy to promise this woman the world, given what Carlisle had put her through and how much he owed her, and it took much of his control to not promise that which he could not give.

“For the sake of my family, should they ever come looking for me, I would like my cause of death to be ruled an accident, and not of my own doing. They would never be able to come to terms with such a shame, and it would make life very difficult for them if they could not give answered to their friends.” 

“I’ll see to it this afternoon,” Carlisle confirmed. “But you cannot return home. There is too much of a risk for anyone to see you, and in your condition it would not be wise.” 

“My condition?” 

“Do you remember what Edward and I told you during your transformation about our diet?” 

Esme winced at the memory of the fires. “That blood is our food source?” 

“That’s right. And human blood is great temptation. Being close to humans will be unbearable for a year or so, and it will take a long time after that for you to be comfortable to be around them.”

Again, Esme wanted to weep. A year? Even longer? She felt water on her cheeks and reached up to touch her face, but it wasn’t tears. The rain was getting heavier, turning from a soft mist to light drops. In the far distance, thunder rolled. “Can you go on my behalf?” she asked, but it sounded closer to a beg. 

“Of course. But it will have to be after dark when no one will see me, and I won’t be able to take much, just enough that suspicion will not arise when the state takes possession of your belongings.”

Esme winced again. This was not the most gentle way to handle this conversation, she realised, but it was no fault of the doctor’s. She just wanted to know everything as quickly as possible, to just get it over with. That’s how it had worked best with other things, no use in dragging it out. “I have a few dresses, and a nice pair of shoes, black with a little heel. There’s a pile of knitted blankets, too. Please bring me just one. I can’t remember what colours they are but… they’re in the nursery.” 

She saw Carlisle swallow, and heard his quiet promise that he would. Then he asked her if she wanted to return to the house, and she found herself agreeing without any thought. Where else was she to go?

When they returned, the broken glass from the window had already been cleared away by the younger man, Edward. He offered her a small smile, and introduced himself properly with an outstretched hand. When her tight grasp had pained him, he simply chuckled and told her that she was stronger now than she ever would be again. She had smiled weakly at that.  _ I don’t feel it _ . His smile faltered when she knew he had heard her thought, and she silently apologised. 

“Please don’t apologise. I will give you as much privacy in your own thoughts as I can,” he promised her. “It’s hard to control at the moment, but I’m working hard on it, and I can ignore other people’s thoughts more easily every day.” 

Perhaps Esme had imagined it, but he looked proud of himself for that, and for the first time, Esme felt herself genuinely smile. “I appreciate that,” she replied, sincerity in her voice. “Thank you, Edward.” 

He returned her smile, and there was a warmth between them. 

“Is there… is there somewhere that I might freshen up?” Again, she wondered if she was blushing. It felt most improper to ask, but perhaps this was her home too now, and perhaps she had every right. 

“Of course. Upstairs, to the left, there is the washroom. We had indoor plumbing installed before we moved in, we didn’t have it in our last home. Cold water won’t bother you like it does humans, but hot water is still a luxury and it’s nice to not have to wait for it over a fire.”

Esme smiled softly at Edward’s enthusiasm and nodded. “That does sound nice.” 

“Edward and I will leave you for some privacy, if you like,” Carlisle said from the front lawn, standing back from where they were on the porch. It was raining harder than before, but he had an umbrella in his hand, shielding him from the downpour. 

She looked back at him and nodded. “But please don’t… don’t go far.” 

Edward went to touch her arm comfortingly but she sprang back in an automatic response. If he noticed, he didn’t let it affect his demenour. “We won’t,” he assured her kindly, now ten feet from her but speaking as if they were face to face. “Only a few miles at most. I’ll still be able to hear your thoughts if you call my name.” 

“You can hear minds over miles?” she asked, astonished. 

He grinned. “I’ve been practicing. If I concentrate, I can. We’ll come back if you need us sooner.” 

“Otherwise we’ll be back in an hour or so,” Carlisle finished. Edward was at his side in a flash, and they both looked up at her from the lawn. “Will you be alright until then?” 

“I think so.” 

Carlisle nodded, and they both gave her warm smiles. “Call Edward if you need us.” 

Esme watched as they turned and walked up the drive at a slow, human pace, as if they had not a care in the world. Would she be able to look like that one day? Happy, at ease, not afraid? Today was the first day of her new life, it was impossible to know what else would be in store for her. 

By the time she had run a bath and sunk into the hot water, the burn in her throat was back. She scrubbed every inch of her skin with soap, and shampooed and combed her hair until it was as fine as silk, and when she was satisfied every fleck of dirt, every whiff of bear, was gone from her, she stepped out of the bath and looked at herself for the first time in a mirror. 

An icy white woman looked back at her, crimson eyes staring. 

No, she could not cope with  _ that _ for the moment. That was one thing too many. It made her angry for the shortest moment, but then the sadness came. Wrapped in a sheet, she carefully padded through the quiet house, following Edward’s scent to a room on the upper floor that must have been his, books and sheet music and parchment scattering the shelves and desks and couches there. The window looked out south, and there were no curtains. On one of the shelves was portrait of a young boy with who she assumed were the parents. The young boy looked like Edward. This must have been his past life. 

She wanted to follow Carlisle’s scent to his room, but something stopped her. Shyness, perhaps. Fright, maybe. 

There was another room on the upper floor that had Edward’s fresh scent in it. There was a bed in there with a soft quilt atop it, a rocking chair in the corner, and a fireplace. Atop it rested a book of Psalms and the New Testament. Over the railings of the bedframe rested some fresh clothes. Methodically Esme dried herself and pulled on the clothes, rolling up the trouser legs and shirt sleeves until they didn’t flop around her feet and hands, and she even pulled on the jacket that was far too large for her. Each shoe was laced, and beside the Bible she noticed a box of hair pins. Ignoring her face in the mirror, she watched herself pin up her clean, damp hair, until there was nothing left to do but stand. 

And stand she did. The first hour passed, and Carlisle and Edward returned home. The second hour passed, and she did not move. The others tried to talk to her, and Edward worried that she had gone into shock. But he could hear her thoughts, and he knew she could hear their words. Carlisle knew what Edward did not realise; she needed time. Two days, she needed, to silently relive her human memories, to understand her change, to let it settle deep within her, and to unravel the threads of this new life. Her second hunt she went on alone, although Edward followed at a safe distance. Three deer she feasted on, each tasting worse than the previous. When she returned home and allowed him to run beside her, she smiled again. It felt better this time. 


	3. Tasting Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esme's first winter has arrived, and as a newborn she had not yet been exposed to humans. The only blood she has ever smelled is animal, and she is finding a way to be happy in her new life. A hunt for a pack of wolves goes awry. 
> 
> Mentions of suicide ideation, killing/feeding on humans, child death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First drafts getting published ONLY. Ya get what ya get xx enjoy!

They left Ashland a few weeks later, and settled west, just outside of Denver, and it was a change they were suited for. The close proximity of hunting grounds was convenient, and Carlisle liked the busy hospital that had been glad to take him on. Esme hadn’t objected when a new story was devised of who they were; they were to pose as siblings, Carlisle the doctor, Edward of school age and being tutored at home by Esme, who was the sickly middle sibling, and could not appear in public. This gave Edward the freedom to live in society as much as he liked without the pressure of enrolling in any schools or colleges. Esme was glad to have such an easy role to fill, although the role of sister settled oddly in her stomach. 

Summer rolled lazily across the sky, and autumn soon followed, turning the trees from shining green to falling orange. With new eyes, Esme had never seen the world look so beautiful. The first morning of Advent brought winter’s early snow, and the glimmer of hope. She sat in the window seat and looked out towards the forest behind their home, and she felt happy. 

Carlisle flitted down the stairs as he made himself ready for his shift, and he poked his head around the sitting room door to bid her farewell. 

“Esme?” he called softly to her. It didn’t seem like she had noticed his appearance. 

She turned at the call of her name, and when her amber eyes met his, the rest of the world disappeared. The smile that followed was the sun itself. 

Carlisle could not speak immediately, she was dazzling him completely, and it made his heart swell.

“Yes?” she sighed happily. Her legs were crossed in front of her and she leaned against the wall, her head resting back as she looked at him. A book rested in her lap, forgotten. 

“You seem well,” he remarked after a pause, returning her smile. He straightened up and walked into the sitting room, and glanced about the room before settling in an armchair close to her window seat. It was comfortable to be with her like this. A glance at the ticking clock on the mantelpiece told him that he had some spare time to spend with her before he  _ really _ had to leave for work. 

“I am,” Esme replied, and she smiled although a line appeared between her brows. “I think.” 

He leaned forward slightly in his chair and cocked his head to the side. “You _ think _ ?” he prompted gently.

There was such warmth in the smile she gave him that he felt it spread through him completely, spreading from his heart and sliding across his skin like silk. 

“Yes. I think I am starting to be glad to be alive again.” Esme swallowed out of habit, but was otherwise completely still. It was a little stressful to think like this, but confronting her emotions and memories as she had these past months had been her greatest healer, and with Edward and Carlisle showing her nothing but kindness and then love, it was safe to talk about. “A part of me will always be sad, but I think that is alright. It means that a part of him will always be with me, and maybe one day it might even bring me some joy.” 

Carlisle was never arrogant, but he knew his worth, and there were very few beings he had ever felt intimidated by, from kings and generals, to legends and myths. He was intimidated now. How fragile Esme had been, how much pain she had endured alone and in silence, and it was almost overwhelming to look at her now, healing and surviving and  _ thriving _ . There was such unconditional love in her, too, and that was braver than anything Carlisle had seen before. How had she been so badly broken, and yet so softly healed? As gentle and kind as he had tried to live his life before, none of their folk was so sweet as she. 

“What?” Esme asked with a soft laugh. The change in his expression as he listened to her was curious. Had she said something wrong? 

_ I love you _ , he wanted to say. Instead, he just returned her sweet smiles and leaned back in his chair again. “That’s very brave of you. A great deal of courage is needed to face the world like that, with all you have been through. I think it’s the bravest thing I’ve seen someone do.” 

In a different life, Esme’s cheeks would have flushed scarlet at that. She looked down to avoid his gaze, but her lips were still turned up. “Hardly, Carlisle. Perhaps it is brave, and I’m glad to have your high opinion, but let us not overstate it.” 

Out of practiced habit, Carlisle crossed one leg over the other and shifted in his seat slightly. Had a line been crossed so easily? It wasn’t nice to see her look uncomfortable like this. “It’s not an overstatement, Esme, not at all. You have endured great sorrow and it had almost drowned you. When given the chance, you surfaced once more, and you are working hard to create a new life for yourself.” 

“A new life with you,” she reminded him gently. “With both of you. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without either of you.” 

That made Carlisle smile as he was reminded of the joy Edward had brought into his life. He was out for the time being, running. He loved to run, not to hunt or to travel, but just for the fun of it. It was wonderful to run alongside him and feel young again. To see how he and Esme adored one another was a different joy altogether. “He’s strong in this life, and determined, I’m glad he has been able to share that with you.” There was a pause, and Carlisle saw how Esme parted her lips a few times without speaking. “What is it?” 

In one smooth movement, Esme swung her legs down from the window seat and faced him properly, hands resting where she still sat on either side of her thighs. “You’re not wrong,” she told him, holding his gaze. “He is those things, but it’s from you that he learned them, and it’s in great part for you that he holds to them. He wants to make you proud.” She broke their gaze shyly. “We both do.” 

“I am incredibly proud of you both,” came Carlisle’s warm reply, and the whisper of the air about her shifting told her he had come closer. She looked up and he was standing within arm’s reach. Gentle hands came to cup her cheeks, and she closed her eyes when he leaned closer and kissed the top of her head. “By you, Esme, I am astounded.  _ Proud _ is a word too simple to convey how I feel.”  _ I love you. _

Carlisle’s hands still touched her face, and she looked up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you.” The words touched her, and suddenly she was on her feet and her strong arms had pulled him into an embrace. Half a moment passed, and Carlisle returned the touch, one hand winding around her back and the other resting on the back of her head. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and dared to breathe in through her nose. His familiar scent flooded her mind and she let it overcome her. Such comfort.  _ You are everything to me. _

\-----------

Edward returned to the house not long after Carlisle left, shaking the snow from his hair on the back porch and removing his dirty boots outside the back door. Esme was still in the sitting room but now in the chair Carlisle had occupied for a short while, as content as the other had left her. He could feel the happiness in her thoughts and it warmed him. Hopefully this would cheer her even further. 

“There’s a large pack of wolves not far from here, Esme,” he called out to her as he hung up his coat on the stand in the hallway. Ice melted in the warmth of the house from his trousers and began dripping on the wood floorboards, and he heard her make a mental note to see to it soon. “Come with me, let’s hunt!” 

_ I’m not sure. _

“I’ll race you.”

_ It’s not as fun now you always win.  _

He smiled at the humour he felt in her thoughts. “Not always!” Edward protested, although she was almost right. Newborn strength waned in her, and now more often than not he ended up outstripping her, but she was right in that the winning was less sweet when the challenge was less great. He ran upstairs quietly to change from his snow-soaked clothes, and pulled on a nearly identical set of shirt and trousers. She could hear him well from wherever he was in the house. “You need to feed.” 

_ I know. _ There was a tinge of sadness to her thoughts now, and guilt. They had been through this before. 

Edward sighed as he combed his hair in the mirror. It was a struggle to get it to lie flat after such a fast run. “It’s not as simple as that,” he reminded her kindly. “It takes time, not practice, to need to hunt less. Your needs are changing, and try as you might, that is not something you can control.” 

It took less than a second for him to appear in the sitting room, and the speed of his arrival made Esme’s hair lift in the little breeze created. She smiled nonchalantly at him. The sudden appearances in rooms did not bring tension to Esme like they did at first, but movements towards her directly still had dread coursing through her. Her boys were careful around her, though, and they had learned quickly. 

“Please be kinder to yourself,” he added. He leaned against a bookshelf close to her; it was important to always practice being human, even in the privacy of the home, even if it felt more natural to stand unsupported like stone. “Come hunt with me. You’ve never tasted wolf, and change is good.” 

_ I’m not sure…  _

“Please?” 

And he looked at her with such angelic eyes, dark though they were, and Esme could not refuse. She was quickly learning that she would refuse Edward practically nothing, especially if it brought her his smile. He heard her thoughts and smiled now, so brightly it could eclipse the sun. “You have me wrapped around your little finger, do you know that?” she laughed in defeat. 

Edward grinned and held out his pinky, stretching it towards her. Shaking her head slightly, laughing again, Esme linked hers with his and they shook in a silent promise. “As I’m around yours.” 

It took only moments for Esme to change into clothes that were old and plain and that she could afford to lose should any wolves fight back, and there was a part of her that was excited for it. Never one for violence, it had surprised her how much she enjoyed the hunt. One day Edward had caught on to this thought, and together with Carlisle explained that it was just a side effect of her new biology, and wasn’t a reflection of a fundamental change in character, and after that, Esme had just accepted it.

“When does Carlisle’s shift end today?” Edward asked as they began running toward the forest. Esme delighted in how they were so quick, they didn’t even leave footprints in the snow. 

“Around four thirty,” she answered as calmly as if they were still lounging in their sitting room. As it happened, their speed was fast enough to take them across the state in the blink of an eye. “He started early, and he wants to go to the evening service this evening.” 

“I might go with him. I like Advent.” 

_ Do you celebrate Christmas now?  _

“Yes. Carlisle keeps all the holy days, and he likes Christmas best.”

Esme’s thoughts were not surprised, and she had seen his devotion to the faith many times. After a few conversations about her own faith as a human, he had bought her a pocket Bible for her to keep with her. On the inside cover, he had written her new name, Esme Platt Cullen, and a small note.  _ To help you find your way _ . He knew better than she how difficult the journey from human faith to immortal belief was. Edward saw her smile to herself, and then her thoughts were worded for him again.  _ I like Christmas too. How should we celebrate this year?  _

“What would  _ you _ like to do?” 

Esme threw him a sweet smile in response to his kindness.  _ I’ll think on it and let you know. _

A serious note crept into his voice when he replied. “If it’s too difficult, we don’t need to celebrate. Please don’t push yourself.” How forcefully Esme had made herself adapt to this new life was admirable, but Edward secretly wondered if she was trying to process too much pain too quickly. Would the pressure crack her sweet facade, or was she really managing well? Perhaps it was buried too deep within her for him to see for now. 

_ Thank you _ . The sincerity in her thoughts warmed Edward. Both new to this life, they understood each other so well, and he was as glad to have her as she was glad to have him.  _ I promise I’ll think on it _ . 

“Good. But for now, let’s just think about our meal. Come this way.” He turned south-westward slightly and followed the trail he had left on his return home less than an hour ago. 

Trees and ferns and the ungrowth rushed past them as they flew across the forest side by side, and Edward began weaving in a wider path around them. Esme laughed as his joy at the run infected her too, and he instinctively mirrored her when suddenly she changed course and dug her fingers into the thick trunk of a tree. Faster than sound she leaped up it, and then just as suddenly she flung herself to the next tree, and then the next, and the next and the next, until she was soaring from branch to branch and sending snow drifts cascading to the floor in her path. Suddenly they caught a fresh trail of wolf scent and Esme dropped to the floor and sprang forward silently. Edward followed suit. They were still a few miles off, they couldn’t hear the thudding of predator heartbeats yet, but the focus of the hunt set in. 

Letting the hot, wet scent pull them forwards was easy. Already, Esme could feel venom fill her mouth, and red crept into the corners of her vision, and her throat was aflame. At her side, she kept Edward in sight, her senses reminding her that on a hunt he was a threat. Whenever he crept too close in her path, she couldn’t bite back snarls and he always heeded them. Now it was no different. 

A mile away, and Esme could hear the pounding blood in the large pack. Her lips pulled back over her teeth, a hiss escaping her in anticipation. In response to the temptation, her body tensed like a coil and she held it back for as long as she could. Edward and Carlisle had tried to teach her to hunt with control, and she tried hard now to hold back, but she wasn’t strong enough. Like an explosion, the tension within her was released. She was wild, excited and hungry and suddenly so desperate to sink her teeth into flesh that she couldn’t control where her legs took her. Half a mile. 

The woods thinned out and she could see where the pack rested in a clearing. Twelve grown wolves, a handful of younger ones, blacks and greys and browns. Esme couldn’t believe her luck. She left Edward to approach from the east, and she circled around, meaning to come at them from the north. Not that they stood a chance against either of the vampires, but it kept Esme away from Edward enough to feel safe when she feasted.

Edward’s cry of “ _ No! _ ” came out a moment before the wind changed. The western wind fanned over her face, and her feet changed course. A scent sweeter and richer than anything else she smelled before called to her like a song, and with it, the world disappeared. It felt heavenly, to be pulled across the earth towards it. Esme went gladly, and within seconds, two heartbeats sounded in her ears. _ Human. _ The smell was growing stronger with every step. Not once did it even cross her mind to stop. Why  _ should _ she stop? This was why she was created. For this very moment. 

“You need to be more careful!” a man’s hushed voice scolded, followed by the scrape of metal. “We’ll need to clean that cut before dirt gets into it. That’s how your grandfather lost his hand, is that what you want to happen to you? To become One Hand Henry?” 

Esme saw them from a distance, and as fast as she could she came before them. The young boy, no more than nine or ten, was laughing in response to the question, and waving his bloody palm towards him. The man looked exasperated, but he didn’t want to ruin their fun. 

“Esme!” came an ear-splitting roar. “Don’t!”

She barely heard it. Even when he had caught her in his arms and locked tight around her, she easily freed herself from steel. The boy didn’t feel any pain. Not with how quickly she grabbed him and crushed his throat against her lips. The little body was drained quickly. Never had Esme felt relief like it. She tasted the sacrament on her tongue, savouring the blissful taste, the way it made her body and soul sing. She was glad to be alive. 

What little blood he gave her could not slake her need, and she caught up with the man shortly after. His distraught face flashed across her eyes, his sobs and cries for his boy echoing in her ears, but he didn’t have to suffer for long. One gentle squeeze of her fist and his skull cracked, her fingers sinking into the softness underneath, and life was gone from him quicker than he could have ever felt. His blood was good, but it was nothing on the divinity of his son. Still, it filled her and satisfied her. Finally she had slaked the thirst. 

\-----

When the world began coming back to her, Esme couldn’t have guessed how long she had been standing frozen. It returned slowly, the red and white haze that had blanketed her in bliss fading first at the corners, and then making their way inwards. At first, she was aware of Edward standing guard over her in a tree a short distance away. Then the sweet aroma of blood finer than any animal she had smelled washed over her. Turning her head this way and that to find the source, she realised it was on her. She licked her lips and tasted it drying there. One flex of her fingers and she knew it caked her arms and body. 

“Where are the wolves?” When she drew in breath, for the first time in this life, her throat did not burn. She was soothed. She felt strong. But it was wrong. 

“Gone.” He sounded wary above her. 

“Is this what wolf blood tastes like?” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” 

“Esme?” 

She broke her frozen stance and looked up at him, eyes wide.  _ Don’t say. Please don’t say it.  _

His own gaze was agonised. “I’m sorry.” 

The taste of the boy was still in her mouth. His father’s bone clung to her hair. A violent scream tore itself from her, and the sound of ripping metal echoed when she dragged her nails down her face. Tearless sobs filled the air, and Edward was frightened. 

_ I want to die.  _

“Esme-” 

“I want to die!” 

Knowing the danger he was in given her strength, given her world-shattering realisation of what she had done, Edward moved forward anyway. When she didn’t move, he came closer, and despite the human blood that clung to her and filled his mind with need, he carefully wrapped his arms around her. 

Her cries tore through her, forcing her spine forwards and she bent over, clutching her stomach. Edward caught her and held her close. “It’s alright. It’s alright, Esme. Shh.” 

There was no way to understand her thoughts, they did not take the form of words. They were nothing but grief. She couldn’t comprehend the monster she had become. 

Edward didn’t have the strength to deal with the bodies, but Carlisle would know what to do. If they left them there, the wolves could have them and any remains found would be attributed to the pack, surely that was the best option. But that left the question of who this man and his son were. Did they have any other family? Edward had to get her home. Carlisle would know what to do. 

“Let me help you. Let’s get home.” 

Esme sobbed without the relief of tears, and Edward had to gently pry away the hand that tried to pull her hair from her scalp. I can’t face him! I can’t forgive myself for this and neither will he! I’m a monster! 

“You’re not a monster,” Edward tried to soothe her. It was difficult, though, when his own nerves were shot. When she had turned on him at his attempt to stop her, she had frightened him. There was no humanity in the way Esme had crushed a man’s skull without hesitation today. But a monstrous accident does not make a monster. 

“Kill me,” Esme begged, doubled over in pain. 

“Never,” Edward whispered. He carefully wound his arms under hers and helped her to stand up straight again. She sobbed into his chest. He stroked her blood-soaked hair. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

The journey home was short. Esme’s legs had turned to stone and she could not move. Edward swept her into his arms and carried her home. When he told her to do something, though, she did it, although he could not hear her register his suggestions, and it was more like her body needed someone else to pilot it while reality settled in, and so with careful guidance she bathed and scrubbed herself clean and pulled on fresh clothes. He did the same, and their bloody garments were scorched to ash in the fireplace. 

The screams had stopped by the time they had reached the house, but the eerie silence that followed haunted Edward. Carlisle’s face flitted across Esme’s mind. She pictured it enraged, hateful and unforgiving, violent hands coming towards her. 

“Esme, it won’t be like that,” he told her gently each time those thoughts were out of control. In truth he did not know what Carlisle’s reaction would be, but it was certain there would be no cruelty or malice in it. Disappointment, perhaps. Still, Carlisle's disappointment would be crushing. As the clock ticked past four thirty, Esme stood by the window and waited. When Edward joined her, she gripped his hand. 

_ He will confirm what I already know. I’m a monster. I don’t deserve to live.  _

“You are the brightest, kindest, gentlest person I have ever known. You are not your worst sin.”

_ I killed a child today.  _

Carlisle’s car came creeping into view, crawling leisurely up the drive. 

_ And it was the most bliss I have felt in this life. I crushed the life from him for a few moments of relief. I stole that little boy from his mother. I ended the life of his father. I deserve to die, too. _

Edward squeezed her hand. “No, you don’t. I won’t let you.” 

They both watched as Carlisle left the motorcar and walked past the front window. He noticed them watching him, and his face was grave. He didn’t take off his hat or coat, but appeared at Edward’s side. The newer vampires watched him. It took only a moment for him to see Esme’s scarlet eyes, and it knocked the breath from his lungs. 

“Esme? Are you alright?” 

She stared at him, willing him to hate her as much as she hated herself.  _ Look at me, look at what I’ve done.  _

Edward squeezed her hand again. 

“We were hunting wolves. A mile or so from where we found them, a boy had cut his hand on a trap he was laying with his father. He was her singer.” 

Esme didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded right. A symphony of God had called her when she smelled him. A temptation from Hell. 

Carlisle’s gold eyes held her red. “And the father?” 

“I killed him too.” Her voice was quiet, but her rage thrummed beneath her skin. 

Carlisle’s expression was unreadable. “Where are the bodies?” 

“In the forest where we left them. I didn’t know what to do, Carlisle.” Edward sounded more vulnerable than Esme had ever known. 

Carlisle nodded in return. “I’ll follow your trail and find them, leave it to me. Please do not leave until I return.” 

And with that, he was gone. Esme watched him through the back windows fly into the forest, and it stunned her. “He’s not angry?” 

Looking down, Edward was uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right talking about Carlisle’s private thoughts, but given what little he had given her, Edward supposed Esme was entitled to some answers. “He thinks he’s failed you.” 

“I failed myself.” 

“He needs time to understand what happened. I think he wishes to find a way to help you.” 

  
Esme’s gaze was still out the back window. “This cannot be helped.”  _ I want to die.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Carlisle grappling with how to handle this situation has got me thinking. He's a new creator and he's teaching his family his way of life, but he's also learning how to have a relationship with them in a way that goes beyond him at the top of a hierarchy. I've stopped the chapter here to avoid going into that too much, but I just wanted to mention it in case anyone else thought the same thing.


	4. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlisle disposes of the bodies, and goes to find Esme. They talk, discuss morality, their nature, and what happened. Mentions of death, suicide, and faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carlisle really said the only man I recognise as DADDY is the Lord Almighty

Carlisle ran across the meadows and through the miles of forest following Esme’s trail. It smelled different now that it was saturated with human blood. He shot past the wolf pack Edward had mentioned and they scattered with yelps of fright. Not far beyond them, the scent of blood hit him. It was so easy to ignore the flames engulfing his throat. 

The boy came into his sight first. It was revolting, the sight of the broken boy. His neck was broken, the skull of his face crushed on one side, teeth marks as deep as his vertebrae on his neck. His white skin was translucent and Carlisle could see where his veins were clear, free from blood. The gash on his small hand had been licked clean. Carlisle knelt at the boy’s side and smoothed his hair. It clung to his skin, sticky with dried blood. How blissful it would be to be able to weep for him.

“ _ We commend into Thy mercy all other Thy servants _ ,” Carlisle murmured. The words were emblazoned in his heart after centuries of witnessing death. “ _ Which are departed hence from us with the sign of faith, and now do rest in the sleep of peace. Grant unto them, we beseech Thee, Thy mercy and everlasting peace _ .”

It felt wrong to gently tear the boy’s arm off. It was desecration of a body, it was a sin, but it had to be done. To avoid suspicion and to provide answers, it would have to be made to look like the wolves attacked. They hadn’t come across the bodies yet but no doubt they would eventually, once Carlisle had left. The animals’ instincts were attuned to the danger he posed enough that they kept their distance, but they would come eventually, that much he knew. Over the years he had observed the behaviour of animals around him, and whilst they never lingered when he was near, animals would come once his scent was no longer fresh. By tomorrow, perhaps, they would come and feast. 

With all of his strength, Carlisle hurled the boy’s arm to the west. It whipped through the air and landed out of sight through the trees, and a distant thud told him it had dropped into the soft snow covering the ground. The pack would pick up the scent and it would bring them here eventually, and the evidence of a vampire’s violence would be erased by their jaws and claws. What a stomach-turning thought.  _ Esme’s  _ violence. 

_ No _ , he would not think that. It was not her fault. She would never have done something like this in her human life. The blood of this child was on Carlisle’s hands  _ as much _ as it was hers.  _ More _ . Sweet Esme, who had brought Edward and Carlisle nothing but joy and love, and helped to turn their house into a home, and who had made Edward happier than Carlisle had seen him. How easily she had fit into their little unit, too, as if she was created to be there, sent from God. She saw herself quite the burden, but neither of the men could agree to that. They cared for her as deeply as they did each other, and their support and protection of her came from adoration, not obligation. 

Carlisle tore the boy’s leg off at the knee and flung it after the arm but not as hard. A makeshift trail for the wolves to follow. Another blessing. One eye had been popped from the skull, but Carlisle closed the other. “Be at peace.” 

He found the father not far away and had to steady himself at the sight of the distorted body, reminding himself that it was easy for newborns to forget their strength and cause this kind of damage without even realising. There was some blood left in him, but only a little. Enough that some seeped from the wound Carlisle caused when carefully tearing his hand free from his wrist as he whispered a quiet prayer over him. It lightened his heavy heart when he reminded himself of the woman he was doing this for, but guilt washed over him for that realisation. Would his love for her allow him to do terrible things? His love for Edward had not demanded that of him before, it was difficult to compare. A swell in his chest told him that his love he had for Edward, though as deep as the other, was very different from what had settled between his ribs for Esme. The golden thread that spilled from his heart and reached out to her tightened around his chest. 

She was too young, and he was her creator. And in her heart, she was still bound to a man that brought her nothing but terror. Carlisle was her safety, and he would not jeopardize that. 

Fumbling through the man’s pockets, Carlisle found his purse with coins in, a few small banknotes, and a photograph taken in a studio. The man’s face was unrecognisable in the snow, but in the picture Carlisle recognised him as a man from town, but not someone Carlisle knew personally. He stood in brown and white ink, his best Sunday suit on, next to the lady Carlisle assumed to be his wife, the boy stood in front of him and a baby in the wife’s arms. Esme had stolen the life of this lady’s son and husband. The agony that had driven her to the cliff she had now inflicted on this mother. 

“It was  _ not _ Esme,” Carlisle said aloud to himself. His voice had a tremor. He repeated the words again, and hearing them in the quiet forest somehow made them more real. It  _ hadn’t  _ been Esme, at least not her choice. Her instincts had taken over, and she couldn’t stop them. If Carlisle had come across a bleeding human during his first year of this life, perhaps he too would have succumbed to the temptation. Edward would have, too, probably. “It wasn’t her fault.” 

By the time he had replaced the man’s wallet and blessed his body as best he could, Carlisle was resolved; this was not of Esme’s doing. If she blamed herself, he would share her burden for this new life he had chosen for her. The weight he did not realise had burned him lifted. He tore down a branch from one of the trees that surrounded him and carefully swept away the evidence of their footsteps, making sure to enough in the snow to avoid suspicion. Once the boy and man had been gone long enough, search parties would be sent out and the bodies would be discovered. The widow would be informed and the grieving process would be started. It would be best if Carlisle and his family moved before long. After the funeral. 

Light sprints took him home as snow began to fall from the sky. It blanketed him, a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. He felt safe behind it. The world was dark when he reached the house and soft steps took him up the steps to the back porch. There was a light in Edward’s room but the ground floor had no signs of life. Carlisle shook the snow from his clothes and hair and he ran his hand over his head. It was easier to be calm now. It was a little difficult to forget the freezing bodies in the wilderness. 

“She’s gone,” Edward told him quietly from upstairs as he came through the back door and took off his wet shoes. A pair of house slippers waited for him there and he slipped them on. 

_ Where? _

“Not far. She circled around the edge of town and found some quiet areas there.”

_ Why? _

There was a pause as Edward seemed to deliberate how much of her thoughts he should keep from Carlisle. “She is afraid of facing us.” 

_ What does she fear?  _

“She fears that we don’t look at her the same way.”

Carlisle took his time to walk up to Edward’s room, the wooden stairs creaking under his feet. Edward’s face was drawn as he looked up to greet him in the doorway. 

“Do you?” Carlisle asked. 

Edward blinked, his eyes dark. He hadn’t got the chance to feed when Esme had turned on the humans. “I was afraid of her. I tried to stop her, but she was too strong and she broke free from me. The hatred she had in her eyes, Carlisle, I- I thought she might have… that she  _ could have _ tried to-” 

Carlisle embraced him and Edward fell silent, grateful. Carlisle understood. Edward was glad to feel his hand on the back of his head, comforted by the touch. It reminded him of how his mother had held him in a different life. 

“I’ve never seen anyone like that,” he admitted once his father had pulled away again. His eyes were wide. “It was frightening. Did you see what she did to the bodies?” 

Carlisle nodded and clasped his shoulder. “Once it was over, were you still afraid?” 

Edward felt his brow furrow. “No,” he replied slowly. “After it was over, and she had come out of her… trance, it was different. It was like she was back.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. I think perhaps, then, it wasn’t her you feared, it was the frenzy that took her. She couldn’t control that.” 

“No,” Edward agreed. “She was very much out of control. Even her thoughts were foreign, it was like a monster took over her.” 

“Can you hear her thoughts now?” 

“In the distance, yes. She’s in pain, Carlisle. I didn’t know what to say to her, other than that she was safe, but it wasn’t enough.” 

“You’re also in pain,” Carlisle observed. He rested his cool palm on Edward’s cheek and smiled softly. “You did the right thing to try to stop her, but it was also right to not put yourself in danger. It would have destroyed her if she had hurt you. And you brought her home, too. I’m proud of you.” 

Edward swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, Carlisle.” 

There was a pause between them, and worry lines appeared between Carlisle’s eyebrows. 

_ You can see into her mind. What should I do? _

Edward sighed, not knowing how to phrase the answer. It felt like a betrayal of Esme’s privacy, but it was for the good of their family, he supposed. “The memory of her husband haunts her more than she likes to admit. I think she’s afraid you will want to hurt her and punish her.” 

“I would never-”

“I know. And she knows, too, but her fears have deep roots and she can’t overcome them alone. You need to prove every day that you are not him.” 

Carlisle’s frown deepened. “Why doesn’t she fear the same of you? Of course, I’m glad she doesn’t” he added quickly. “But why me?” 

If the situation hadn’t been so painful for all involved, Edward would have smiled at Carlisle’s question. Why did Esme look at the two of them so differently, as if it wasn’t obvious. He didn’t much feel like smiling now. “She doesn’t see us in the same way.” 

_ I’m her creator.  _

“Yes. But it’s more than that, I think you know that.” 

Carlisle bit the inside of his cheek. Now is not the time for that. 

Edward agreed. “No, it’s not.” 

What should I do now? Right at this moment? Should I go to her? Or should I give her space? 

Edward didn’t answer, but watched Carlisle carefully. 

“Please help me, Edward. I want to help her but I don’t know how.” 

“I can’t tell you what to do, I don’t know either. She’s afraid of your disapproval and she ran to avoid you, that must be respected. But at the same time… Carlisle, her thoughts change whenever you’re close. It’s like… it’s like she’s stepping out of shadows and into the sun. There’s a light in her thoughts when you’re in them.” 

“Don’t,” Carlisle said softly. “Please don’t tell me that.”  _ Don’t break my heart.  _

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Edward told his father gently. “She looks at you as you deserve to be looked at. But that’s not why I’m telling you this. I think you need to know now, so you know how best to help her. What would you want if you were in her position?” 

Carlisle stepped away from Edward and slowly began pacing the room. He liked it here, it was like being surrounded by Edward, surrounded by someone he loved. He spoke his thoughts aloud. “If I had succumbed, I would be ashamed and afraid of the judgement of others. I wouldn’t want to see them again, but I would also want to be comforted and reassured. I would want to be alone, but I would need… I would need a companion.” 

Edward watched him. “What will you do? What she wants, or what she needs?” 

“Which one would she resent more?” 

Edward smiled slightly. “Esme would resent neither.” 

Carlisle glanced up and returned his smile. “I still don’t know what to do.”  _ Make a decision for me, tell me to do something, and I will see if it feels right or wrong. _

“Leave her be.” 

Carlisle shook his head, his mind suddenly made up. “That’s not the right thing. I’ll go to her.” 

“I think you’re right,” Edward agreed. “Bring her home, Carlisle. Remind her she’s part of our family now, and we love her without condition.” 

“I will.” On his way out, Carlisle kissed Edward’s forehead. “Thank you. I’d be lost without you, son.” 

\----------------

Esme heard his approach from a mile away. Hidden amongst the trees, she could not yet see him but he was not making himself a secret. His footfalls were heavy and slow, almost a human pace, a warning to her, a signal, allowing her to flee. Ice steel she remained. The bow that carried her weight creaked slightly, and she dug her fingers into the thick trunk for balance. The wood cracked under her touch. 

Through the gloom of the night, Esme finally saw him as he came within half a mile. The moonlight shone through the forest and made his golden hair glisten white. Like lamps, his eyes glowed. They made her cower. They frightened her. 

“Peace, Esme,” he called out to her softly. Hands were outstretched in a sign of peace but it didn’t relax her. “Won’t you come home?” 

Still making his way towards her, and keeping their distance, he would have been able to see her shake her head. Fear paralysed her throat and she couldn’t speak. When he at last reached the base of the tree she had scurried up, she leapt a little higher and kept her red eyes fixed on his form. There was no aggression there, no threat, at least not yet. 

Carlisle broke their gaze and glanced around him before settling on the snowy ground. The sky was beginning to clear, and the soft drifts were quickly being turned into hard ice. He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap, and did not meet her gaze. Esme was glad. It was too easy for him to see her fear if he looked into her eyes. 

“That’s alright, we don’t need to go home yet. But I would like to keep you company for a while, if that’s alright?” 

Silence. Fear was rising in Esme. Perhaps he was here to lecture her, preach to her the horrors of her sins, of the flames that would engulf her soul at the breaking of her body until the Day of Judgment, how the Almighty would see her crimes against His creation and damn her forever. This, she knew. This, she did not wish to hear spill from his lips. Maybe he would force her to hear of the people she had killed and their stories, and of the pain she had caused by stealing their lives away, the grief of those left behind. Already Esme had seen a thousand different faces warped in sorrow thanks to her hands, and to hear Carlisle speak of them would be so much worse. It may be the case that he now hated her. She was loathsome, indeed, but it was one thing for her to hate herself. For Carlisle to hate her would be another thing entirely. Unbearable. Insufferable. Hellfire. 

“I thought we might talk,” he continued after it was clear Esme would not respond. “It doesn’t have to be about what happened if you don’t want to. It can be about whatever you would like.” 

Whatever invisible force wrapped around Esme’s neck, it forced her silence. She moved from one branch to another so that she could see him better through the branches. He glistened like the snow surrounding them. He looked silver in the moonlight. 

“When I was first turned, I tried to end my life.” Carlisle spoke quietly, unusually still. The habits he mirrored around humans, fiddling with his fingers, crossing and recrossing his legs, smoothing back his hair, were gone now. The facade had dropped. Even in the house, he often kept it up. Esme’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t want to hear his pain but- but she wanted to know him. She wanted to know that he felt how she did. “I realised that I had been turned into a monster, sent from Hell to harm humans. I tried to drown myself, but that did not work. Jumping from great heights was not effective, either. Later I learned that fire is our only true death. By then, my life had changed and I had turned it into one I wanted to live. But I was so distraught by what had befallen me, I thought it was my duty to die, and even if the act itself condemned my soul, then at least I had protected many innocent lives from my lust.” 

Esme’s fist slowly pushed a hole into the trunk at her side. He had come here to preach, then. 

If he heard the splitting wood, he did not look up. There was no malice in his voice. “I had once thought that the taking of a life was unforgivable. But I have lived many years on this earth and seen many things, good and bad. Sometimes… sometimes things happen without intention, and without control. When it is one’s nature to… to  _ want _ certain things, to  _ need _ them, the conscious soul cannot overpower the physical power. Should the soul be punished for the needs of the body?” 

Eyes ran up the tall tree and Esme felt them pierce into her. She didn’t understand. Was he absolving her? Telling her there was no sin of the soul, only of the flesh? How could a shattered heart break again? 

A deep sigh escaped from Carlisle, and there was something akin to pity in his gaze. “It was not your fault, Esme. Your intention was to hunt animals this evening, as you have so wonderfully done since you came to us, and an accident happened. You are still so young, you didn’t have a choice. You shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

Esme felt her voice return suddenly and it made her chest ache. “If it had been you with Edward, those two lives would still be intact!” 

“Yes. But if Edward had been as young as you, perhaps not. If I had been, perhaps not. It was not because of who you are, but the temporary state your body is in. It won’t be like this forever.” 

Esme’s body tensed like a coil. “I liked how it felt.” 

“Does the memory make you glad?” 

Her hand flew to her throat. The fire was still gone, and her mouth pooled with venom at the thought. It was loathsome how, at least in a small part, yes, it did. But through the red haze of the feeding, the terrified faces and sobs of her victims pierced her. A price too high for such a meager reward. “No.” 

“Are you sorry for it?” 

“More than anything.” Without thinking, her body sprang from her perch and suddenly she was sweeping from treetop to treetop as fast as she could. Down below, Carlisle kept pace with her. She heard her sobs more than she felt them. “Please go!” 

Despite his ferocious speed, Carlisle’s voice was even and kind. “I won’t leave you alone like this, Esme.” 

_ I don’t deserve this _ , Esme thought. His kindness, his understanding, his forgiveness. The snow on the trees ricocheted into the sky and fell like sugar through the night as she passed, dusting her until she was coated. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and slipped ten feet down into the next tree, coming to a sudden stop. Trying to wipe the snow from her vision, she paused, and suddenly Carlisle was on the branch next to her. She looked up at him in fright as he raised a hand, but it was gentle and he stroked snow from her hair. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

Esme bit her lip. “It was.” 

“Would you have done such a thing in your old life?” His voice was so quiet, and when his hand cupped her cheek she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. 

“Never,” she whispered. 

“Would you have taken the life of another, for any reason? No matter their crime, their actions, would you seek to end their life?” 

She didn’t even need to think about the answer. “No. Not in that life, not in this.” No crime, no matter how ghastly, how cruel, how hateful, deserved that. 

“Then it was not your fault, Esme. Your instincts made the decision for you. Those lives were taken, and forgiveness must be sought before God. But you must forgive yourself first.” 

“I don’t think I deserve to be forgiven.” She covered his hand with her own, holding his touch against her cheek. It comforted her. 

“God forgives all those who are sorry. And so do I. Do you?” 

She opened her eyes slowly and Carlisle did not shy away from the scarlet in them. “It’s easier to forgive others than oneself. You know that.” 

Nodding, Carlisle sighed. “I do. I must ask you something.” He gently took away his touch from her face, and she felt a chill. “While you learn to forgive yourself, will you forgive me?” 

Esme searched his face in confusion. “For what?” 

“If I had not turned you, you would not have been in that place at that time, with the instincts and needs of a newborn. Whatever burden you carry, I share it.”

That made her blink quickly, the notion settling ill in her stomach. “Please… please don’t ever be sorry for choosing me. For  _ saving _ me. You saved my life in… in so many ways.” 

It was her turn to touch his cheek, and his lips parted at her touch. The chill was gone when she saw his eyes close briefly, and the way he turned his face into her hand. “I’m not sorry for choosing you, Esme. I’m just sorry for bringing you this pain. Please share it with me. Let me carry your burdens with you. Please don’t be alone.” 

Although Carlisle made these requests of her, Esme knew they were offers. He was offering her a home, not just a house, but himself, his soul. It lightened her own. The road ahead was dark, but in him she had a light. Tentatively, she wondered if he meant it; that she no longer had to be alone. He gently wound his arms around her and she returned the embrace, stiff at first but melting slowly against him. She cried again, and he stroked her hair. 

  
After a long while, they climbed down the tree together and knelt in the snow. With Carlisle’s hand in hers, they prayed.  _ God, have mercy on my soul. Grant me the strength to do what is right, and forgive my sins, and those who have sinned against me. Help me to fight this evil within me. Help me make it right. Help me be good. Please.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't fun to write but it was very theraputic. At this time, I'm just writing for my own self-indulgence and if anyone else enjoys it that's a happyt bonus!


	5. The Little Boy's Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proof reading is for people without mental health issues, it could never be me my luvlie xx

Two days later, the bodies were found. Newpapers picked up on the story of the tragic deaths of the father and son, and hunting parties left the city in search of revenge every night for a fortnight. Some mornings they even managed to bring home a new wolf carcass. The week before Christmas was the funeral. 

Esme stood in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, as Carlisle and Edward pulled on their coats and scarves and hats, and tried to ignore the invisible hand that clenched around her throat. 

Edward noticed her expression and touched her cheek. “I don’t have to go, Esme. I can stay with you.” 

She shook her head, and glanced over his shoulder at Carlisle. Carlisle met her gaze. “It’s right for you to go. I only wish I was strong enough to join you.” _I’m weak. I killed them for it. I don’t deserve to be in the house of God, not after destroying that sweet little-_

“Esme.” 

Her wide eyes shot back at Edward who had called her name and she bit her trembling lip. 

“I can stay,” he offered again. 

Esme took in a deep breath to steady herself and took Edward’s hand from her cheek, squeezing it. “Thank you. But I need you to go for me, both of you.” 

“I have the donation, as discussed,” Carlisle said gently, patting the pocket where he had put the envelope. It was far more generous than any amount Esme would have been able to give in her old life. “And no one will know it came from us. She will be well taken care of.” 

_Money cannot replace a lost child._

“No,” Edward answered her thought. “But it frees her from that burden, at least.

She nodded, looking down. _You’re right. Thank you. Thank you for everything._

Edward kissed her forehead and let her hand go to move to the front door. It was still well before noon, and the weak winter sun could not break through the dense clouds that blanketed the sky. Ice and snow covered the ground, the world turned to white. The stiff breeze that swept through the hall when Edward opened the front door did not chill them; on the contrary, Esme felt soothed, refreshed, for it. 

Carlisle glanced over his shoulder as he followed Edward, but something in her face stopped him, and in a moment he was before her. It felt so different when he took her hand in his. Despite the freezing wind, it was warm between them. 

“Will you truly be well while we are gone?” he asked softly. Behind him, Edward quietly left the house and walked slowly down the front drive. 

It was a difficult question to answer honestly. “Yes,” she lied smoothly. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, especially when she considered the sweet truth in his own face. “I will pray.” 

As if something drew him, he moved slightly closer to her. “I meant what I said, Esme, when I asked you to share your burdens with me. I understand if you do not wish for other reasons to hide them, but do not do it out of concern for me.” 

There was no malice in his words and Esme had to close her eyes to escape the overwhelming kindness in his eyes. How happy and yet heartbroken she was. To commit such sins, but remain so beloved was a burden in itself. She chose her words carefully. “It is much harder to bear when you are not close, but it would be even more dreadful still if you did not walk through the church doors at 10 o’clock and pay your respects to the two lives I took.”

Eyes still closed, she felt one of his hands in her hair and it took all her control not to weep. Her voice trembled. “Carlisle.” 

“This is the right thing,” he murmured. Like Edward, he kissed her forehead, but his lips lingered longer against her skin. “We will make it as right as we can.” 

With a whisper of movement in the air, he was gone. The front door clicked shut and his light steps faded into nothing as he ran to catch up with Edward down the drive. It was some fifteen miles to the church, and Edward was warming up the motorcar. Once the sound of its engine roared down the lane and eastward to the city, Esme let herself sob. She missed the catharsis of tears. It was more painful in this life. It doubled her over, had her clutching at her stomach and falling to the floor, and she let the devastation wash over her again. 

What agony she had suffered in her lives. What _he, that man, her husband_ , had done to her she had once thought was more pain than she could suffer, but then her sweet boy died in her arms, and it was all consuming. The fires of the change were comparable. Both had her yearning for the oblivion of death, but both were out of her control. Even what _he_ did to her was not of her doing, she knew, and reflecting on that now, curled on the tiling of her hallway, there should have been comfort in that. Now her pain was entirely of her own doing, and it was laced with guilt for the destruction she had wrought on others. How many would flood that chapel, how many would sit with their heads bowed as the caskets were brought in, father and son, and weep for the lives taken too soon? The pain she had felt after the death of her own child, she had now inflicted on another. Perhaps it was a fair penance, to live with that knowledge in her heart for the rest of her days. 

Crying helped a little. After a while, her breathing returned to normal and she had control of her body again. She got up and took a deep breath, tasting the air around her. It was clean, fresh snow and old pine and rich dirt seeping through the cracks in the windows joining the familiar scents of varnished wood, old books, brass and copper piping, iron lamps. Carlisle and Edward were everywhere, and it was such a comfort. As she walked through the empty house, she let her fingers run along the walls, tracing the panelling and wallpapers. Her steps took her to the landing and towards Carlisle’s room. They had insisted that the house was hers as much as theirs now, and there was nothing that was off limits, but still, it felt invasive to go into either of their rooms without express invitation. But she pushed that aside now; she needed to be surrounded by someone she loved. 

Carlisle’s door was open and she pushed it open, hesitating on the threshold for only a short while. It was a light room, wallpaper plain and pale, lacking personality. She ran her fingertips along it until they made contact with a picture frame. He had talked her through each piece, from the tiniest map of old London, to the grandest oil painting depicting him and his friends as gods. She liked that one, ostentatious as it was, for how fine he looked in it, and it awed her whenever she looked at it. What a life he had led for so long. If only she could be part of it as she so longed to be. Sometimes she wondered if he understood what her heart yearned for, but even if he did, there was little chance of reciprocation. She was damaged, broken, incomplete, _detestable_ , especially now. And he was, what? Not of this world, so godly, so kind, so caring, perhaps sent by the heavens. And under the laws of men and God, she belonged to another. 

Her fingers touched his pale face on the antique canvas. “I’ve waited for you for so long,” she whispered. “The memory of you alone brought me hope of a better world, even when mine was cruel. You are everything I ever wanted.” Esme closed her eyes and his flawless face swam before them. “I want to belong to _you_.”

The feeling of the old oil paint was nice against her cold skin. It was easy to stand perfectly still and enjoy the sensation for a while, but after a time, his face warped into that of a terrified little boy’s, screaming in fear, and the sound of his life gurgling away filled her ears and she started back and shook her head, trying to be free of it. Almost immediately, fire scorched her throat and she moaned in pain. “No!” 

When they got back, she would ask Edward to hunt with her. It was easier with him, knowing he could read her thoughts and react to her needs better, and she worried less about what she looked like around him. Initially she had been worried that after she had almost attacked him during the hunt that went wrong, he wouldn’t want to be with her again, but he had been happy to prove her wrong by taking her out the next night to hunt deer. After human blood, animals were more unpleasant to taste than ever. 

“Distraction,” she mumbled to herself. “Don’t get lost again.” Not lost in the memory, not lost in sorrow. Saying the words aloud made them easier to obey, it made them more real, and she forced herself to move away from the wall covered in paintings. Instead, she wandered to his bookshelf and touched along the spines of the shelves and shelves of books there. To her left was his desk, and to her right, a soft couch with a low table in front of it. On the table rested a thick volume, bound in old leather. 

_Meditations - Marcus Aurelius_

Her own education had been limited as a farmer’s daughter from Ohio, but Carlisle and Edward had sometimes discussed this particular book. Not confident enough to join in the lively debate, Esme had listened curiously instead, but she hadn’t thought before to read it for herself until now. Carlisle had assured her many times that she could read whatever book she wanted, but it had taken months for her to believe him. The first time she had read a book without explicitly asking first, she had jumped with fright when he returned home and asked her how she liked it upon finding it on his shelf with her scent on the pages, but in the end it had not been a loaded question asked to ensnare her. Although it wasn’t easy to take the opportunity without asking permission each time, Esme was forcing herself to do it and it felt less difficult as time went by. Her stomach writhed now as she picked up the volume but with even breaths and concentration on the very real world around her - the carpet under her feet, the cool leather in her hands, the couch cushions beneath her - she slowly relaxed. There was a marker in the book and she opened it to where Carlisle had left off. 

> _Book Eleven_
> 
> _Characteristics of the rational soul: self-perception, self-examination, and the power to make itself whatever it wants. It reaps its own harvest, unlike plants (and, in different ways, animals), whose yield is gathered in by others. It reaches its indeed goal, no matter where the limit of its life is set. Not like dancing and theatre and things like that, where the performance is incomplete if it’s broken off in the middle, but at any pints - no matter which one you pick - it has fulfilled its mission, done its work completely. So that it can say “I have what I came for.”_
> 
> _[...]_
> 
> _Also characteristic of the rational soul: affection for its neighbours. Truthfulness. Humility. Not to place anything above itself - which is characteristic of law as well. No difference here between the_ logos _of rationality and that of justice._

Carlisle was in these words. Her heart swelled and she looked up at the bookshelves. He had read every volume, he had told her. _And so too would she now. Let me find every piece of you in these words._

The rest of the chapter washed over her like a flood. To read words that endured centuries, that survived the rise and fall of empires, that guided and gave comfort to millions before, refreshed her. A terrible thing had happened because of her, but it was not the end. In time, she told herself, she would forgive herself, and she would be better. Time was hers for the taking, and the world was waiting. 

* * *

The grandfather clock that stood proudly in the hallway had just struck 1 o’clock in the afternoon when the sound of narrow tyres turning onto the icy driveway alerted Esme to their return. Out of instinct she slammed the book shut and threw it on the table as if she had not even thought to touch it, but a calming breath soothed her. No, it was quite alright that she had read the book, Carlisle had already told her many times that she did not need to ask permission. Slowly this time, as slowly as a human, she picked it up again and tucked it under her arm and went downstairs to greet them. 

They were sombre when they climbed the porch stairs and walked through the front door she held open. Her slightly lifted spirits dropped again at the sight. 

“How are you, Esme?” Carlisle asked kindly, although he could not completely smooth out his expression. 

She nodded mutely and took his and Edward’s coats from them to hang up out of habit. They exchanged a glance, but her quiet was not unusual, and there was nothing alarming in her thoughts. Edward noted the book under her arm and smiled. 

“Are you enjoying it?” he asked, nodding at it. 

She smiled shyly. It was difficult for her to be honest with them about her hobbies and interests, and for now she would sooner hear what they had to say than say something of her own accord, but Edward knew his effort was appreciated. “I am,” she replied, and turned to walk into the sitting room. She took up her usual seat in the window, and Carlisle settled in his high-back leather chair. Edward drifted over to the Bosendorfer Carlisle had imported from Vienna as a gift for their second Christmas together and began quietly playing a slow canon that he had been perfecting over the autumn and into winter. 

“I… I hope you don’t mind that I chose this book,” she said after a moment, looking up at Carlisle. He smiled over the paper he had picked up in town, tension still between his brows. “I saw you were reading it, but the mark is still in it.”

His voice was warm. “I’m glad you’re reading it, it’s one of my favourites. What do you think of it?” 

She tilted her head to the side and stroked along the edge of the spine. Carlisle’s eyes drifted to the movement on her fingers now and again. “The honesty in Aurelius’ observations are… refreshing. I can’t agree with all that I’ve read, which is only a few chapters I must admit, but I understand what he’s saying, and I like his perspective. It reads very strange, though, like they’re just scribblings and odd thoughts, rather than a thought out series of essays. Not that I have much experience with that, either,” she added with a small laugh, “but it doesn’t have much structure.” 

Edward’s music was soft in the air, major chords lifting the soul, and Carlisle let peace wash over him for this brief moment. Nothing existed but these two people that he loved best in the world. “I agree with you. Aurelius never wrote _Meditations_ to be published, they were just a series of entries he wrote for himself over the years. I think that’s why they are refreshing, like you say, because they lacked any desire for an audience. He could be self-indulgent in the way he expressed himself without concern of the judgement or opinion of others.” 

Esme bit her lip against her widening smile at his praise. “That sounds very liberating for a man like him. He was a Roman emperor, wasn’t he?” 

Carlisle folded his paper and tucked it between his thigh and the arm of the chair, his full attention on Esme. “That’s right. Machiavelli named him one of the ‘Five Good Emperors’, and he ruled at a time of peace across the empire. He was more of a philosopher than some of his predecessors, and he began the process of no longer persecuting Christians.” 

“Do you think he was kind?” 

The question was surprising and Carlisle leaned forward slightly. “I don’t know enough of him to answer that definitively. What do you think?” 

Being asked her opinion was something Esme still found unusual. Before these men were in her life, men hadn’t cared for what she thought about anything. “I think… from what I’ve read… that there is kindness in the thoughts behind his writing. The way he thinks is logical, but in a way to better himself, rather than to justify ill will, and how to make the most out of each moment. I take comfort in that. The past has weighed me down for years now. I think I needed to hear that there is another way, and that’s what he seems to suggest.” 

“There are other ways,” Carlisle agreed quietly. He got up from his chair and joined her on the window seat and squeezed her hand. “We will get through this.” 

Esme carefully pulled her hand out of his, the thoughts she had been struggling to suppress now coming back to her. She seemed to shrink where she sat. Edward continued to play. 

“How was it?” she asked after a moment. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“Carlisle,” Edward interjected from across the room. “We agreed.” 

Esme looked between them with wide eyes, panic rising in her. “What happened?” 

“No, nothing happened,” Carlisle assured her quickly, throwing a glance at Edward. “It was fine. As fine as a funeral could be. You have nothing to worry about.” 

_Tell me!_ She thought, eyes locked on the older vampire but mind on Edward. He had stopped playing, and silent steps brought him to kneel before her. 

“It was sad,” he told her, nothing but compassion in his voice. “Many wept.”

_What aren’t you telling me?_

The men shared a glance again and Esme’s hands started to shake. “You’re frightening me. Please, _please_ , tell me.” 

It was clear from the look on his face that Edward didn’t know where to begin. “Esme, I… if… if your husband had never come home from the Front, would a part of you been glad?”

The invisible hand was around her throat again and she shook her head. It felt like the walls were closing in around her, and Edward quickly felt the panic in her thoughts. He grasped her hand in both of his and spoke as soothingly to her as he could. “Esme, it’s alright, you don’t need to answer that.” 

Carlisle watched as Edward did his best to calm her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. Edward looked up at Carlisle for help, and he licked his lips before taking Esme’s hand from Edward’s. 

He rubbed small circles against the back of her hand and repeated his son’s words. “Esme, it’s alright.” _This is why I didn’t want to tell her, it upsets her so much._

Edward shook his head and Carlisle heard the words he had spoken on their drive home. _She deserves to know._

“You saved a woman from a husband who did not love her and did not treat her kindly. Her burden is lightened for it, I promise.” 

Esme’s eyes had turned amber in the weeks following the incident, feeding almost every night on animal blood, and with most of her own blood out of her system, she almost matched the others. They locked on Carlisle again, and slowly, the trembling in her hands stopped. “He didn’t deserve to die.” 

Edward opened his mouth to disagree but Carlisle shook his head once. He fell silent. 

“It is not us who should decide who lives and who dies. Even those who deserve death, I don’t want to be the judge and executioner. And even if it fell on me to be those things, that little boy didn’t deserve it. Tell me how she felt about her son, Edward.” 

“She wept for him,” Edward answered her, feeling Esme deserved the truth more than she needed protection from it. “Her heart is broken. No parent should have to bury their child.” 

Pain flared in her stomach again and she leaned forward. Carlisle caught her before she fell and suddenly his strong arms surrounded her and she let the embrace consume her. He stood to hold her better and on her toes she stretched up to be as close to him as possible. One hand stretched out in a silent call to Edward, and his arms came around them both. There was no malice in what Edward told her. _Thank you for being honest with me. I love you._

Edward kissed her hair. “I love you too, Esme. We both do.” 

Carlisle made a noise in agreement and squeezed her a little tighter. 

Her face buried in Carlisle’s neck, she hid from them to make her biggest request. “I can’t stay here for much longer. I need to leave, but I can’t be without you.” 

Carlisle couldn’t think when he felt her breath on her neck, and Edward pulled away from them. Careful hands moved into caramel hair and Carlisle gently guided her away enough to face her. If blood still ran in his veins, his cheeks would be flushed. “I have already made enquiries. There are a number of places we could go, but I thought somewhere with less people would be suitable.” 

Esme nodded. It felt so safe with his slender fingers in her hair. “I would like that.” 

“There’s a growing city in Canada that’s close to the wild.” 

“Wilder than here?” 

“Certainly.”

Esme glanced at Edward who gave her a fleeting smile. The shared moment between them broke Carlisle’s momentary lapse in judgement and he dropped his hands from Esme’s soft hair. 

“Does Canada suit you, Edward?” she asked. 

“As well as anywhere else.”

“And you will find work there?” 

Carlisle nodded. “There's a need for doctors everywhere.” 

“Where will we live?” 

“There will be somewhere, Esme, don’t worry. I did wonder if, assuming we like it there, we could build our own home. Like an old forest cabin, but bigger.” 

Carlisle’s enthusiasm made Esme and Edward both smile, and his eyes sparkled to see it. 

She knew he was making such an effort on her behalf, and she was glad for it. As her creator, she wondered if he felt obliged to be like that. “How soon?” she asked. 

“As soon as we box up our possessions. Most of them came with the house, though, and we can leave to whatever new owners buy it.”

“You won’t rent it like the others?” Edward asked, surprised. Carlisle had a portfolio of properties that he had accumulated over the years. It had been no shock that he set the prices below market value to benefit the renters, and barely any money was being made from the effort. 

“No.” _I only keep those properties that I will one day return to. We’ll never come back here._

“Oh.” That was Edward’s only response. Whatever Carlisle had communicated in silence to his son had not gone unnoticed by Esme, but she did not press it for now. All that mattered now was that they were leaving. Although this place would haunt her, she knew she deserved a chance at moving on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smeyer said "Esme was happy after she was changed and she and Carlisle married soon after" and I said NO because if Bella and Edward's marriage was intact after Bella was turned, then so is Esme's marriage to Charles and it's time to start MILKING that. "Married soon after" absolutely not xx


	6. Can't Spell 'Paint' Without 'Pain'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events in Denver that left a father and son dead, the three companions make the move to Calgary and it's more than a year since Esme's turning. Edward leaves the house to give Esme and Carlisle privacy to talk about where they stand with each other, but complications arise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Chase - westrons - for being my constant support and encouragement, and for celebrating my self-indulgence on this project. Without you, I would feel a lot more self-concious and self-loathing about this whole thing. You help keep it fun. Thank you to Chase also for proof reading parts of it when I couldn't force myself to, because who else loves to write but hates to read their own work right away?

The winter thawed into spring, and the world about them sprang into life. Rolling fields and scattered woodland surrounded the pleasant city of Calgary that the three now called home, and their newly built home nestled quietly against the Elbow River to its west. After the snows had melted, the lush landscape of their surroundings was revealed and Esme thought she had never seen a place so beautiful. The sun was brighter here and so Carlisle took night shifts at one of the city hospitals, and Edward had taken up evening classes in music to catch up enough for college come the fall. Esme had begun to paint again. She had not touched a brush since her youth, and it came rushing back to her like a river. It lightened her spirit. 

No incidents had followed the woods outside Denver. The ache in her chest dulled with every passing day, but there would always be a scar on her heart. She prayed most nights and it helped, and when Carlisle was at work, she took in as many philosophies as she could. She favoured the classics, particularly Confucious and his ideas of self improvement through reflection and cultivation, but had little time for Socrates, and the ill tone of newer writers like Nietzche soured her mood. John Stuart Mill was an exception, and she drank in his writing eagerly. One April morning, unprompted, she mentioned to Carlisle and Edward that she had finished reading his  _ Subjection of Women _ essay, and she wondered if she might share her thoughts on it. It was the first time she had initiated a discussion about one of her interests, and both men were well pleased. 

For the first time in either of her lives, she spoke freely of her belief in liberty and justice, of the rights of all people to live as they choose so long as they do not harm others. It caused her pain, that much was obvious, as she reflected on the own harm she had caused, but there was a strength in her as she expressed her interest in the notion of controlling one’s own destiny and freedom.

“Thank you,” she said to them both after they had agreed with her views, offered their own, and guided her to build on what she had read. They could see before their eyes how she grew more confident, more happy, when she was listened to and truly  _ heard _ , and it made both of them happy, too. 

Carlisle cocked his head to the side. “What for?” 

It was difficult to be honest, even after a year, even after they had been through and the lengths they had gone to prove their love for her. But she reminded herself to be brave. “For making me feel safe. For listening to me, even if you are not interested.” 

“We  _ are _ interested,” Edward told her honestly. “It’s as much a privilege for us as it is for you. I promise, with every word you speak, the more we both love you.” He had never been so candid as he had been recently, but seeing into the turmoil of Esme’s mind had changed him. Edward knew that she needed reassurance more than he needed to stay quiet. 

Esme beamed at him with shining eyes. “Thank you, Edward. Where would I be without you?” 

He chuckled and got to his feet, pulling on his jacket. “I think after that refreshing discussion, I need a run. Would either of you like to come?” 

“No thank you, I think I’ll paint today. It’s lovely weather for it.” 

“Not for me, Edward,” Carlisle answered, although Edward already knew that. The tenor in Carlisle’s thoughts had changed as their discussion had progressed over the hours, and Edward had guessed that perhaps now would be the time for another conversation to take place, one that did not need his own involvement. He smiled knowingly at his father who only raised his eyebrows in an apparent question.  _ Why are you looking at me like that?  _

Edward nodded his head slightly in Esme’s direction, but she didn’t notice. 

_ I don’t know what you mean.  _

The younger man rolled his eyes. 

_ Now is not the time.  _

A slight nod. 

_ We are all in such good moods, I don’t want to ruin that.  _

Edward turned away from him and went to Esme where she sat in the window seat and kissed her forehead in goodbye. “I can’t say how long I’ll be. I’m in half a mind to see how long it would take me to get to the Bay of Alaska.” 

Carlisle laughed. “Some two thousand miles? Oh, only an hour or two, then!” 

Edward grinned, his teeth glinting. “I thought I might like to see how penguins taste.” 

“You might struggle with that, my love.” Edward gave her a questioning look and Esme smiled broadly. “They’re only naturally found in the Southern Hemisphere.” 

“Ah. Shame. I’d best rethink my Alaskan plan, then. Perhaps I can find a nice mountain to climb.” 

Esme laughed. “Of mountains, close by, there are plenty. Climb to a peak, and come home to tell me all about it.” 

“Anything for you,” Edward joked, and then he was gone. Carlisle did not miss the wink he threw him on his way out and it ruffled him slightly. Perhaps now  _ was _ the time. 

He watched her for a while as she turned her attention back to her book. How pretty she looked, peaceful and content, the light of the sun shining through the window and sending fragments of colour dancing across her skin. She wore a light blue dress, and he thought to himself how fair it looked on her, like the clear sky. 

Esme leaned back in her seat as she closed her book, and smiled at Carlisle where he sat in his armchair. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it and closed it again. 

“What is it?” he asked with a smile. 

“I don’t want you to laugh.” 

“I won’t,” he promised, but added, “unless you mean to make me.” 

“No, I don’t mean to make you.” But it was her turn to laugh, the warmth of her mood spilling from her lips in delight. 

He couldn’t help but return it. “Then tell me, Esme.” 

She bit the inside of her cheek, still gazing at him with golden eyes, and stood up. “Will you come with me.” She held out her hand. “I’d like to paint you.” 

There was a glow under Carlisle’s skin as she pulled him upstairs and he felt warmed by it, by  _ her. _ They made their way into her room and he balanced her easel and chair between his arms to bring them out onto her balcony that looked west toward the mountains that stretched above the horizon, far in the distance. Miles and miles of lush fields and forests lay between here and there, and from this vantage point they could hear the place teeming with life. Esme followed him out with a blank canvas and her paints and tools and began organising them on the table. Above them, the clouds drifted across the sky and now and again the sun shone clear. Esme was as enchanted by Carlisle glittering in the light as he was with her. 

“Could you please stand here?” she directed him, a little nervous in her role taking control. Without needing to think about it Carlisle moved to where she pointed, and she nodded. 

“Where would you like me to look?” he asked, hoping she would not command him to tear his eyes from her soft expression. 

Esme stood in front of her canvas and glanced at Carlisle over the top of it, moving from side to side to work out the best angle. “I’m not sure yet. But I would not paint you looking anything other than happy, so for now, please look at whatever out here you find most beautiful.” 

There were butterflies in his stomach when he couldn’t look away from her, and she laughed. “I mean it!” Her voice was light, teasing. She thought he mocked her. 

“Looking at you makes me more happy than looking at the sky, or the trees, or the flora, so at you I shall look.” 

She looked away, still smiling, and picked up a stick of charcoal. Delicate fingers hesitated for a long while over the canvas, as if she were afraid to make the first mark, but after a deep breath, she began. Careful lines were sketched out, light and thin, some long and arching as they traced the horizon, others tiny around the treetops and flowers. The background was easier to lay a base for, rough though it was, and slowly, the shape of his hands emerged, and the waistcoat over his shirt, the broad shoulders that gave his torso shape, the hair that lay neatly pushed away from his face. His face. It was difficult to bite back the frustration as Esme realised she didn’t know where to even begin. 

“What made you want to paint me?” he asked after a while, his curiosity - and hope - getting the better of him. 

A light breeze lifted her hair and she turned her face into it, feeling it refresh her. “I think it would be a good habit to paint things that make me happy.” 

“I’m glad I make you happy.” 

She felt very watched, and couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. It was not unpleasant, though. Only the outline of his head was done, no features were yet on his face. Time to change mediums. She squirted four shades of green onto her palette and dabbed her brush into them, mixing a spectrum of them, and once satisfied, began lightly stroking the oil paint onto the canvas. There was no method or structure to where she began; it just flowed from her wherever it felt good to put colour to canvas. 

“You both make me very happy,” she agreed as the brush whispered in her fingers. 

“Do we make you happy in the same way?” 

The question took her off guard. This was dangerous territory that was very rarely, if ever, spoken of aloud. She considered her answer, and it was not fair to lie. “No. You each bring me different kinds of happiness. My son died, but that didn’t stop me from being a mother. I think I feel quite protective over Edward in a similar way.” 

Carlisle smiled. He could just see her eyes peeking over the top of the canvas, and a spark went through him every time they looked back at him. “I noticed that. It’s good. Edward is young enough that he still needs that kind of love.” 

“He looks at you as a father.” 

“In some ways, yes. And I’m glad to fill that role, I think of him as my son. But as his creator, it is, perhaps, to be expected.”

Esme smiled, dipping her brush tip into a light blue and experimenting with it in the painting’s sky. “You’re my creator, but I don’t think of you as a father figure. It’s more of a reflection of how you care for him and guide him, not the biology of the change.”

An opportunity. “How  _ do _ you think of me?” he asked. He didn’t dare breathe as he awaited her answer. 

Slowly, she dipped her brush into the paint thinner and then wiped it dry before setting it aside. A larger brush would be needed to lay down the foundation of the sky. She started with a brilliant white, still avoiding his eyes. 

“Esme?”

She leaned down, hiding her face completely behind the canvas so he could not see her from where he stood. “I think well of you,” came her hesitant reply. 

His footsteps were quiet against the wood of the balcony, and dark shoes came into her vision where she fixed her eyes on the ground. With courage in her heart, she dared to look up. She was just within reaching distance, but there was no malice in his face, no danger in his stance. This was Carlisle, no one else. 

“What else?” 

A nervous laugh escaped her, and she clamped her mouth shut in response. 

“Esme, please,” he asked, voice soft, pleading, almost. “You know my heart, you must.” 

She turned her attention to her paints once more and picked up a very light blue to begin blending it into the white. It looked pretty. With her eyes firmly on the canvas, she answered him as lightly as she could. “My heart is not my own to command, and so it cannot answer yours.”

Carlisle froze, tense from the sudden stress. Had he miscalculated? Made too many assumptions? No, Edward had hinted at her mind, and he wouldn’t play such a cruel trick on Carlisle. “Your heart is your own, Esme, no one else’s.” 

Her face was smooth, scarcely hiding the tumult she felt. She breathed deeply through her nose and let the smell of the forests fill her mind. Carlisle’s scent was there, too. It was everywhere. “I took a vow before God, that I was to belong to my husband until the day of our deaths.”  _ As much as it pains me.  _

Reaching a hand out, Carlisle gently caught her wrist, and she didn’t try to pull away. “You deserve happiness, Esme.” 

“Thank you. You and Edward are helping me to believe that, and I think you are right. But I am still bound.” She sounded so detached, as if they were discussing the weather. It distressed him. 

“And if you were free?” 

When she pulled her wrist out of his grip, he let her go. In deafening silence, he stood back in the place she had directed him to, but turned his back on her to look out over the miles of lush wilderness in front of them. The brush strokes were lazy and long now, covering large portions of the canvas. 

“If I were free,” she began slowly after a long pause, “I would tell you that from the moment we first met, my life was forever changed. That, even as a child, I knew you were different, special, and the thought of someone as good as you living in this world kept me believing in something better. If I were free, I would tell you of all the nights I lay in my bed, dreaming of someone as kind and gentle as you to love me, hoping that one day I would find a man who could make me feel as safe and treasured as you did when you first came into my life.”

Carlisle’s hands were in fists atop the balcony railing, his head bent. 

“If I had not married that  _ hateful, cruel _ man, I would have waited a lifetime for someone like you to come along. And if I had fallen from that cliff, a free woman with no hurt in her heart and no unbreakable vows dragging her down, I would have opened my eyes to this life and thanked you. If my life was my own in the eyes of God, I would have already told you how you have changed everything. You are everything. You are the sun in the morning and the stars at night, you are the light around which my life now revolves.”

He closed his eyes, unable to move. 

Esme picked up a smaller brush and began flicking shadows into the rough streaks of colours set down for the trees. Her voice was calm and even. “If I were free to give you my heart, I would, and I would tell you that from what I know of love and from what I have read and seen and heard, no one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you. But alas, I cannot, and therefore I shall not.” 

It took enormous strength for Carlisle to look over at Esme, and the pain in his face made her regret everything she had said. The brush dropped from her fingers and she was at his side in a flash. Gentle hands cradled his face, and his hands went to her waist. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He closed his eyes and turned his face to kiss her palm. “Forgive me for what I said.” 

With her in his arms, her pressed body pressed close to his, it was difficult to form any coherent thought. By God, he wanted to kiss her and hold her and tell her that it didn’t matter, let them be damned and let them be happy, but the words would not come, not those ones. Kinder ones came instead. “You don’t need to ask for forgiveness. I asked, and you answered.” 

“Tell me.” 

“What?” 

“Tell me your heart, Carlisle. Please?” 

He kissed her palm again and smiled. He took that same kissed hand and moved it to his chest, over where his heart once beat. “It’s tied to yours, Esme. With golden thread that cannot be cut. When we are apart, the thread tightens until I can feel the pain in my chest, and that pain is not eased until I see your face. It hurts so much to be away from you, even if it’s just a few hours.” 

Her big eyes looked up at him and he ran his thumb gently up her spine. It made her move away, but he saw her irises darken. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said gently. 

“I’m not upset,” she lied smoothly, turning to give him a weak smile. She felt strangely detached from the conversation, as if it were happening in a dream, or watching it happen to someone else. “But there is nothing to be done. I am another man’s wife.” 

Carlisle had never wanted to kill someone, it was not in his nature. But over the months, as he had grown to love Esme, and learned more of the husband she had had to bear, he better understood hate. He would not be sorry to see him dead if it meant that burden was lifted from Esme. Let him die and cause pain no more.

The wet paint on the canvas glistened where it stood on its easel and Esme returned her attention to it. Carlisle’s face was still a blank space on it, and she touched it, brows furrowed. 

“Why do you not have a wife?” she asked after a long pause. The easiness that had been between them before was now gone, and they were both still and tense. Esme forced herself to pick up a small detail brush and she began dotting pink and yellow flowers into the shades of grass.  _ Tap tap tap. _

“I never found someone with whom I wished to share my life like that.” 

“Do you think you will ever marry?” 

“Yes.” 

Dots of flowers appeared more rapidly in the picture. _Tap tap tap tap_. “You sound very sure.” 

Another long silence, and Carlisle considered his words carefully. “I always dreamed of finding a family who would share my values and diet, and before Edward, I have never met anyone else who did. In him I found a companion and a son, and I knew that there must be others, somewhere in this wide world, who agreed. I will marry a woman who shares this, too.” 

Esme looked down and cleaned her brush. “I hope you find her soon.” 

“Esme,” he sighed sadly. “I-”

Both of their heads turned sharply as the sound of racing feet approached. Edward’s ferocious pace was familiar, but it was not alone. Two - no,  _ three _ \- other people joined him, not as quick, but beyond anything a human could do. Carlisle and Esme flew to the front door of their home and without even thinking, he took a protective stance in front of her. She gripped the back of his jacket nervously. 

Edward flew into view through the trees and halted on the front lawn, exhilaration in his face. “Esme, Carlisle!” he called. “You’ll never believe it.” 

Behind him, three tall figures emerged. The three most beautiful women Esme had ever seen came to stand next to Edward, so alike in looks that they had to be related. Their hair was as white as the stars, their features sharp and fierce, and their teeth flashed as they smiled. But there was warmth in all of their faces, curiosity and wonder, too. Stood in the doorway, Esme and Carlisle were frozen in shock. 

The women looked up at them with shining, golden eyes.


	7. We Three Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three sisters - later known as the sisters of the Denali clan - arrive and the seeds are sown for a lifelong friendship. However, with Esme frightened by the strangers, and her relationship with Carlisle strained, how will it play out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Like other chapters, this one includes brief mentions of domestic abuse, and suicide / suicide ideation.

The three strangers kept their distance from the house, standing side by side and close together. On the far right stood the smallest, her face narrow and long and sharp, other-wordly in its beauty, and her hair was so pale it was almost white. It hung in a long waterfall over one shoulder. To the left was the tallest, so similar in looks to the other that they could have been sisters during their human lives. She had a lively grin on her face. In the middle stood the most beautiful creature Esme had ever seen. Her strawberry-blonde hair framed her exquisite face like a shining light; it was difficult to look directly at her. 

Esme shrank behind Carlisle and he shifted in front of her instinctively. He stared with wide eyes, the air gone from him. It was impossible to look away from the strangers’ shining, golden eyes. 

_ Am I going mad?  _

Edward laughed in delight and held out his hand to call his father over. “No, Carlisle, you’re not going mad! Our paths crossed in the forest barely five miles from here, can you believe it?” 

The three women stood close together but there was no threat or concern in them; they looked excited. The most beautiful one stepped forward and spoke to Carlisle, her voice like music.

“My sisters and I have friends here. We were hunting, and your companion found us. We didn’t-” She couldn’t finish her sentence, her smile too wide, her joy spilling out in a laugh. She turned to the women behind her and her joy was reflected in their faces. 

“We’ve been searching for others like us,” the taller one said. In synchronization the three women took slow steps forward, and Edward matched them. 

Esme let the fabric of Carlisle’s jacket slip from her fingers and he descended the porch stairs to meet them halfway. Edward came to his side and Carlisle gripped his arm for support. Carlisle seemed beyond words. 

Edward laughed at the thoughts swirling his father’s mind, feeling the elation and celebration, the impossibility of speaking them aloud. It was rare for the old vampire to be beyond speech. “This is my creator and father, Carlisle Cullen,” Edward told them proudly. “He has lived this way since his creation three hundred years ago. We keep permanent residences and keep a strict diet.” 

“I can see that,” the strawberry-blonde laughed, clasping her hands in delight. “I’m Tanya, and these are my sisters, Kate,” she indicated to the taller of the group, who grinned, “and Irina,” the smaller one beamed. 

Blinking a number of times, Carlisle seemed to find his voice again. “Of course, of course! A pleasure!” He reached out his hand and Tanya took it, glancing at her sisters when he kissed the back of it. “Thank you for coming, you are very welcome at our home!” He kissed the hand of each sister, looking at each of their faces as if he were seeing the sun for the first time. Edward clasped his shoulder and Carlisle managed to tear his eyes away from their guests to meet his son’s gaze. 

“Where’s Esme?” 

Carlisle’s head whipped to the porch but it was empty, the front door ajar. He tried not to look too concerned as he looked back at their guests. “I apologise, she has never met other vampires before, and she was turned only a year ago.” 

“Of course, we understand,” Tanya said kindly. “Whenever she is comfortable, we would be glad to make her acquaintance.” 

“Thank you.” 

Wherever she was, none of them could hear her movements. Edward could hear the fear in her thoughts, though, and hoped that she could be confident enough to join them soon. From what he could tell, she was listening to every word from her bedroom. 

“You have a lovely home,” the one named Kate remarked. “Have you been here long?” 

“Thank you,” Carlisle said again, smiling. He held out an arm, gesturing that the women were welcome to make their way inside. They didn’t need asking twice, and eagerly they entered the Cullen home. “We built it ourselves. Well, we hired professionals, of course, but we wanted somewhere entirely our own. It was December last year that we arrived in Calgary, and by April there was enough house for us to move in. Esme chose the design of the inside.” 

He led the group into the small sitting room with Esme’s favourite window seat, Edward’s piano, and shelves and shelves of books. It was a lot like their sitting room in Denver, but where there were dark woods and thick carpets there, it was much lighter here. The women looked over the titles in their collection curiously, touching the leather chair and the top of the piano, as if they were trying to understand every piece of the Cullens’ life with as much information as possible. 

“Beautiful,” Tanya remarked as she pressed down middle C on the piano. “Do you play?” 

Carlisle smiled so broadly his teeth showed. “Yes, but Edward is the true talent. It’s his area of interest.” 

Tanya’s sparkling eyes moved to Edward. “Oh? It’s been so long since we heard one of  _ our kind _ play. Please do indulge us some time.” 

Edward chuckled. “Of course, it would be my pleasure.” She threw him a look, and there was something in her thoughts that made him look away. 

“Might we see more of your house?” Kate asked. 

_ If you feel they pose no threat, tell them yes _ , Carlisle thought. 

“Of course,” Edward agreed easily. “Allow me.” The three sisters followed him back into the hall and down to the kitchen, marvelling at all of the appliances. 

“Where is the use in having such a well-equipped room when it will never be used?” Tanya laughed with good humour. 

“Appearances are  _ everything _ ,” came Edward’s good-natured reply. 

Esme listened as they moved through the ground floor, going from room to room, remarking on decorations, on books or pictures. In the corner of her room, stood as straight as a pole and just as stiff, she felt safer. The sight of strange vampires had frightened her. It shouldn’t have, they were like her, and women, too. She had  _ never _ been given a reason to fear women. But their marble skin had reflected in the sunlight brilliantly, their teeth had flashed in smiles, and it had sent bolts of terror through her. Even though they were inside the house now, it felt better to be upstairs and out of the way. 

“Could we see upstairs, too?” one of them asked. Esme had snuck away before seeing which voice matched each name, but she imagined it was the shortest of the three. 

There was a pause. Carlisle’s office was upstairs, the room with all the paintings. The piece that celebrated him as a friend of the Volturi hung there. Perhaps he didn’t want to disclose that and intimidate their guests, given the elevated status that coven had. Well respected and revered, it might give the wrong message that they intended to intimidate their guests. No, that would be too close to bragging. 

“Perhaps we should talk first,” Carlisle suggested, and Esme heard them move back to the sitting room. The women crossed the floor and it sounded as if they had taken up her window seat, all three of them. A squeak of leather told her Carlisle had taken his usual armchair, and the whisper of thick upholstery put Edward in his light blue seat. 

The voice Esme knew as Tanya’s spoke with eagerness. “Yes, please! Now, Carlisle, Edward, tell us  _ everything _ .”

She heard Edward and Carlisle laugh in synchronization. “I come into the picture late into the story. Carlisle?” 

“Very well. I’ll keep it brief for now. I was born in London in the early 1640s, but it’s difficult to know exactly when, especially after the Calendar Act in 1750, but around that time. My father was an Anglican preacher who held an obsession with fighting the evil of supernatural creatures, and he drew me into it. When I was 23, I discovered a coven of vampires in the sewers beneath the city and we made the mistake of ambushing them, dozens of human men. I was bitten, and managed to hide during my transformation. When I felt the thirst and knew what I would have to do to live, I couldn’t justify killing a human being just to slake my need. I fled to the country, and withdrew. It was entirely by accident that I fell into this diet; a deer passed me by after my months of isolation, and I found myself feeding from it before I had realised what happened.” 

Esme listened in wonder as entranced as she was the first time she had heard the story. He had explained it similarly to her when she was only days old. After the incident with the father and son, Esme had so dearly wanted to die. He told her then how he had felt like that once too. Ice ran down her spine. It was difficult to know what was more troubling, how far he had gone in an attempt to die, or how impossible it would be if the day came again that life was too much for her to bear. Of course, he did not mention that to these strangers. 

“You never fed on a human?” Tanya’s voice sounded incredulous. “ _ Ever _ ?” 

Esme could hear the pride in Edward’s voice. “He has more control than anyone you will ever meet. Not once has he fed on a human, and he has only tasted human blood twice. When he turned me, and when he turned Esme.” The call of her name made her eyes flicker to the door but she did not move. 

“I practice medicine, and I am lucky that it has helped my tolerance. It does not tempt me any longer.” 

“Lucky?” one of the other sisters laughed. “That’s no luck at all. We know how hard it is; that’s  _ incredible _ .” 

“So is that how you came to this diet?” the third asked eagerly. “There was no other factor, just… you couldn’t bear to harm  _ any _ human,  _ ever _ ?” 

A whisper of fabric. Carlisle nodding. “Exactly. And you?” He sounded excited. He was always excited when learning something new, be it be a new book, a new study, a new person. It sounded like he was leaning forward in his chair. 

The three sisters laughed and Tanya spoke again. “We had a similar experience, although much later in life. Our mother created us around a thousand years ago in the area they have decided to call Czechoslovakia - for now. I was the first, and my sisters joined us within a hundred years. After our mother-” She faltered, as if wishing to say more but being physically unable to. She swallowed and continued. “After we lost her, we were still feeding on humans, but- but we formed attachments to some throughout the years. It is difficult to be close to a human without being overcome with thirst when they are one’s sole diet.” 

“Attachments?” Carlisle asked in surprise. “How unique! I’ve never heard of such a thing. Might I ask what kind of attachments?” 

“We enjoy the company of men. There are more human men than vampire men,” Irina or Kate said, humour laced in her words. 

It sounded like Edward was stifling a chuckle, and Esme realised what the sisters meant. Well, over a thousand years, one had to find amusement  _ somewhere _ . Esme thought it quite sensible. 

“I apologise, ladies, I am still a little confused,” Carlisle said, having the sense to sound bashful. “The company? Do you have permanent human companions?”

“We like to fuck men,” one of the sisters informed him, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And mortal men are easier to find than immortal.” She had a pretty accent when she said those words. 

“Kate!” Tanya scolded in good humour. “We are in polite company!” 

Esme relaxed a little. It was nice to know that if she was downstairs, she would probably be the least uncomfortable of the group, given her familiarity with such activities, compared with her companions. Fear still froze her, but at least it was beginning to thaw. 

“What?” Kate protested. “He asked! You don’t mind, do you, Carlisle?” 

If his heart still beat, Esme guessed his face would have been flushed. His reply, though bashful, was cheerful. “It’s not the talk our sitting room is used to hearing, but a change in pace is never unwelcome!”

“Oh?” Kate asked, her voice suggestive. 

“Kate!” Tanya scolded again, but she was laughing, and to Esme’s surprise, so was Edward. It was nice to hear him happy. Perhaps he had taken a liking to the women, maybe one of them would suit him-! 

“Tell us of your companion!” Irina prompted, sounding excited. 

“She’s…” Carlisle began, but he didn’t finish his thought. She was frozen in the corner of her room. 

Edward stepped in helpfully. “She’s quiet, and a little shy. I think our meeting was quite overwhelming for her, but she doesn’t mean to be impolite.” 

“Ah, we had no such thought,” Tanya said dismissively. “Whenever she’s ready, we would love to become acquainted with her. Is she your mate, Carlisle?” 

“No,” Carlisle answered a little too quickly. He cleared his throat - a human habit he practised regularly - and did not elaborate. 

“And you, Edward?” she turned her attention to him. “Do you have a mate?” 

Edward chuckled lowly. “No, I do not.” 

“Excellent!” Kate spoke this time. “Mortal men are delightful, but they’re not very  _ durable _ .” 

It was Carlisle’s turn to laugh, and there was an unusual awkwardness to it. “We’re not, ah, practitioners of your lifestyle in that aspect. But our arms are always open for friendship.” 

“As are ours,” Irina confirmed cheerfully. “We’ve always dreamed of meeting others like us. It feels like we’ve been waiting forever.” 

Carlisle’s voice was softer this time, gentler. “So have I. I was so lonely for so long, and then I found Edward, and in him I found my family. When Esme joined us, I found my home.” 

Silently, Esme’s hand came to cover her mouth and her eyes closed. A pain flared around her heart, as if something tightened around it and squeezed. A golden thread. This wasn’t fair, it wasn’t. If only he knew how happy he made her, how she never thought she could love someone so much, and how she hated that she could not give herself to him. Perhaps he ought to find a new home in one of these free women. It was only a few moments before the women had arrived that he said he dreamed of marrying a woman who shared his diet and value of human life, and like destiny three had appeared out of nowhere. 

The window seat squeaked as someone sat upon it leaned forward. “And in us, you have found friends.” Tanya sounded so sure, it was impossible not to believe her. 

A silence fell, but it did not seem strained. After a while, Carlisle’s chair quietly squeaked. His feet moved on the floor, and the women in the window seat stood up, too. Marble met marble. “Thank you for coming to our home. We do not have a lot of space, but please stay with us. Be it a few days, a few weeks. Please?” 

Tanya answered. “It would be our pleasure, but we must inform the others in our family. They’re expecting to meet us at the border in two days, and if we aren’t there…” 

“Of course, of course, I apologise for assuming-”

“Please, don’t apologise, Carlisle. If it’s alright with you, might we return with them?” 

“How many others are there with you? I’m afraid our space is limited.” 

“Two. Carmen and Eleazar, a mated pair. They’re wonderful, and so kind! Eleazar had a similar experience as you, although later in life, when he knew he could no longer take human life for the sake of thirst alone, very remarkable!”

Esme heard Carlisle’s mouth open but it took a long moment for him to speak. “Would he happen to be Spanish, and with the remarkable gift to understand the gifts of others?” 

“You know him?” Kate asked in wonder. “How?” 

“I was a guest of the Volturi for a few decades in the eighteenth century, and I was in Volterra when Eleazar joined! Our time there only overlapped for a few years, but we spoke on occasion. How wonderful to hear he is now sharing this life! I’m glad to hear he has found a family.” Esme liked how Carlisle’s English accent shone through when he was most delighted, like now. It surprised her that he spoke so freely of the Volturi now, when she had assumed that it was the portrait of them that prevented them from going upstairs. 

“We adore him, and Carmen,” Irina told them. “We’re only parted from them for short periods of time now, because it’s difficult to be away from them. They went ahead to look for permanent homes up north, and we were on our way to join them.”

“Do you need to leave today to catch them?” Carlisle asked. 

“No, we can stay until tomorrow evening, if that suits you, and then we can come back with the others?” Tanya asked hopefully. 

“Yes, please!” Carlisle agreed, joy in his voice. “I take night shifts at the hospital but that leaves my days free. Edward, you will be able to host our guests in the evenings and nights, won’t you?” 

“Not every evening, I have some classes still in session. But you are welcome to our home, and there’s plenty of hunting spots within the area. In fact,” Edward added, getting to his feet like the rest of them, “might I show you some of them now?” 

“Will you come with us?” Kate asked. 

“You will have to excuse me, ladies, if you are going out then I may take the quick opportunity to do a little work,” Carlisle told them apologetically. 

“We won’t be long,” Edward assured them. “But I had been ready for a long run, and your appearance cut it short. I’d be glad to have some company when taking it up again.” 

“Thank you!” Irina answered with happiness in her voice. “We will.” 

“We’ve not yet heard your part in the story, Edward,” Tanya remarked. “You must tell us everything.” She sounded strangely suggestive. Esme thought that if she were on the receiving end of such treatment, she would be completely ensnared. 

“Right this way,” Edward told them, his broad smile pulling every word up. The four of them left through the back door, and their laughter quickly faded into the distance. 

The house was quiet again. Esme drew her first breath in through her nose and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She took a few steps forward and flexed her fingers, letting herself come back to her body. After being frozen in fear, it took a little while. 

“Esme?” Carlisle called softly from the doorway. She started, taken by surprise as she had not heard his approach. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. How are you?” 

The sun was at its highest peak as noon approached. Daylight spilled into her room through the doors to her balcony, and she walked out onto it, eyes drifting over the portrait they had started in such good faith. He followed her, and watched her as she methodically poured out white and yellow paint and mixed it into a dozen shades. Using a tiny detail brush, she began painting small flecks of hair about the crown of his head. 

“Would you like me to stand for you again?” he asked. She didn’t answer. Carlisle walked across to her and gently held her wrist. “Please talk to me. Please don’t shut me out.” 

There was a sorrow in her that she didn’t know how to explain, and it was ruining his good mood. At last he had found what he was looking for - friends with whom he shared a vision, a way of life, discovered after three hundred years of searching - and she was tainting that memory. 

With enormous effort, she smiled. “They seem wonderful. I look forward to meeting them properly. I’m sorry that I ran away, I just-” She missed crying. “I couldn’t stop myself.” 

Carlisle’s hand moved up her forearm and curved around her elbow, and she closed her eyes. Slowly, she leaned back against him, letting the feeling of his strong chest against her back consume her for a moment. The thoughts that she had ruined this for him were pushed away for now.

“You don’t need to apologise,” he whispered, his lips close to her ear. “You did nothing wrong. It can be frightening to meet new vampires, especially when you’ve never met them before. You did the right thing in removing yourself if you felt like it was too much.” 

She rested the dirty paintbrush on the palette and took in a deep, calming breath. “Thank you for understanding.” Carlisle ran his nose through her hair and the breath left her in a quiet noise. How easy it would be to give into the desires of the heart and flesh, to turn around and kiss him and hold him and let him bring her joy and comfort. To risk his immortal soul for such a selfish sin would be unforgivable. She pulled away, but slipped her hand into his. 

“Please tell me your mind,” Carlisle said as she pulled him to the edge of the balcony where he’d stood earlier to pose. “You carry such burdens that I wish you would share.” 

Esme let his hand go and gently raised her hands to his face, tilting his jaw until he was in the perfect position for her. Returning to her spot behind the canvas, she smiled over the top at him. His presence was so calming, and although the arrival of the strangers still had her on edge, she felt much better already. “I carry no burdens.” 

Carlisle smiled sadly. “We all carry burdens. You know mine. All of them.” And she did. Over the past year, they had talked at length, and as the newborn fever had worn away and she had come back to her old self more and more, he had confided in her the guilt he carried from turning her, how he had let her down and two people had died for it. She had, in turn, confided her burdens too, her heartbreak at taking two lives, her sorrow for her son. Only hints had been revealed of the husband she still felt bound to. They didn’t talk about  _ him _ . It spoke volumes, though, when Edward or Carlisle moved too fast unexpectedly, or a voice was raised in frustration, or a door banged, and Esme flinched and looked about in fright. They didn’t talk about romantic love or marriage; as they grew closer, it was a notable silence between them. 

“I carry no burdens right now, then,” Esme answered with a smile. “Today, I’m happy.”

There was a light breeze, and it ruffled Carlisle’s hair. He smoothed it back with one hand, but Esme shook her head. “Leave it like that, please? You look so formal in other pictures.” 

_ I love you _ , he yearned to say as a broad smile spread across his face.  _ I love you, I love you, I  _ love _ you.  _ “I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you before I asked our guests to stay. Will you be alright with that?”

“Of course! There’s no need to apologise.” The brush strokes were short and quick, and her hand was moving faster and faster as she grew more confident. “I’m glad. I haven’t had any ladies in my life since- well.”  _ Since I threw myself from a cliff.  _

“Is there anything that will make it easier to meet them?” 

Esme’s head tilted to the side as she watched the sunlight catch in Carlisle’s golden hair. It was difficult to ignore the sparkle of his diamond skin, but if she started looking, it would be hard to stop. The prisms dancing across the canvas from her own skin was much less distracting. “I think… if you… if you’re…” It was so difficult to ever articulate what she wanted. 

“I’ll be by your side,” he told her kindly. “You don’t have to be alone.” 

She was grateful. It was much easier to be herself when she was around someone who understood her. 

Two hours passed. Esme was satisfied with her progress on the piece so far, although it was still impossible to even attempt starting the face, and with Carlisle’s help her supplies were brought back inside. They took the brushes and palette downstairs to clean in the deep kitchen sink and stood close together as she washed and he dried. 

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s painted me,” he remarked as she handed him the first clean brush. Carefully, he tapped the moisture away with the towel and set it on the counter atop another towel. He shot a glance down at her, and when she did not look at him but couldn’t stop a smile appearing, he smiled too. It made him feel warm. 

“It’s been a long time since I painted anyone,” she replied. Paint ran down the drain as she carefully squeezed the bristles. It still made her marvel that she was capable of incredible strength, but could still have the most delicate touch. It took a lot of practice, though, and the doorframes had had to be repaired a few times when she had accidentally closed the doors with a bit too much force. The paint brushes were safe, though. 

“I was thinking,” Carlisle said after a brief pause. “I would quite like to have our photograph taken, all three of us. We don’t have any pictures of us together.” 

Esme swallowed. That would involve being around humans, perhaps in large groups, for an extended period of time. “That would be nice,” she agreed hesitantly. “But… I’m not sure… that might be quite difficult…” 

“Yes,” he agreed, but he didn’t seem phased. “It might be. But I know you’re strong enough. And we can work our way up to it, don’t worry. I just thought it would be something pleasant to aim for.” 

Turning her head to the side, Esme met his gaze. He had such kindness in his eyes, such love, she couldn’t help but believe him. “Alright.” And as easily as that, her fears disappeared. Carlisle would be there, he would guide her. Small steps, carefully testing her and building up her tolerance until she was ready to be around humans enough to go into town and into a portrait studio. After all, it’s what normal families did, and in the decades, perhaps  _ centuries _ , to come, how wonderful it would be to look back at a photo of the three of them as happy as they were right now. Esme leaned against him in silent thanks and he wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. 

At that moment, footfalls sounded in the distance. Slower than when the group had first arrived, as if to give Esme and Carlisle warning. Esme went stiff, her instincts telling her to fly again, but Carlisle was holding her this time. 

“It’s alright,” he soothed. She dropped the paint brushes into the sink and took calming breaths, her eyes fixed on the line of trees that the kitchen window faced. Carlisle stood at her side with his arm about her, and she felt safer. “Let’s go to the sitting room.” 

Glancing up at him, she nodded, and he smiled encouragingly. Together they went into the room they had been before, and Esme took in the visitors’ scents. It was fresh, like springwater and pine and northern winds. It was so different to the sunshine and lilac of Edward, and summer flowers and honey of Carlisle. The voices of the returning group reached their ears, and Esme called silently out to Edward. 

_ I’m so glad you’re home, my love. Forgive me for before, I didn’t mean to be rude. I can’t wait to meet them.  _

“Do they know of Edward’s talent?” she breathed so quietly their approaching guests would not hear. 

“Not before they left.” His lips were at her ear again and her eyes closed for a moment. Standing side by side, Carlisle had a comforting hand resting at the small of her back. 

Edward was first in the house and he ran to Esme in a flash, and he touched under her chin and kissed her forehead with adoration in his eyes. 

“Your boy is quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen,” Tanya laughed from the hallway, her sisters in tow. They followed Edward into the sitting room and suddenly three sets of eyes were fixed on Esme. 

She smiled shyly. “Yes, Edward is very fast.” 

“Tanya, Kate, Irina, this is Esme, the newest addition to our family,” Edward introduced her, smiling. There was pride in his voice, and it made Esme glow.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Esme said quietly. Her eyes were wide but it was clear she was eager this time. “I apologise for my previous absence.” 

“Please, no,” Kate dismissed with a grin. “The fault was ours. It was impolite of us to show up at your door with no warning.” 

Esme shook her head, soft curls bouncing slightly. “Not at all. You are always welcome in our home.” She glanced up at Carlisle and he smiled down at her. The sisters shared a look but didn’t speak their questions aloud. 

“Come,” Carlisle said, gesturing to the hallway. “There’s more seating in the dining room. Let’s talk some more, all of us. I have so many questions!” 

The sisters laughed, and Edward grinned. Esme stayed glued to his side. 

“So do we!” Tanya replied, delight written across her face as clear as day. “Edward’s told us so much about your life, yet it leaves me with more questions than before!”


	8. Tanya, Kate, and Irina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esme bonds with Tanya, Irina, and Kate while Carlisle and Edward are out of the way, and there are some revelations about reproduction, sex, marriage, and religion along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tweaked canon in terms of timeline here; the Cullens do not meet the Denalis until AFTER Edward has left Carlisle and Esme to try a human diet, but for the sake of this fic I have put it BEFORE. Please note that this chapter talks about (canon-typical, as they're vampires) infertility, and aforementioned infant death and suicide. Barely passes the bechdel test because im Esme/Carlisle trash.

The afternoon was spent with the six of them learning as much as they could about each other as they could. Carlisle and Tanya took the lead for each clan, but each sister and Edward had their own fair chance to talk, too. Esme was more comfortable to sit at Carlisle’s side and listen for now. The sisters told them of how they had built their resistance to the temptation of human blood for hundreds of years, and that they had not had a slip between them since the fall of Louis XVI. The sisters had been in Paris at the time and the bloodshed in the streets had been too much to bear; since then, no human had been their meal. It surprised Esme to hear them talk so candidly about the humans who had died at their hands, whether by accident on the street or accident in the sheets, but it warmed her to them. They were so open, so honest, so unperturbed by the social rules of middle class society and it was a breath of fresh air. To speak so freely about anything - everything - was very liberating. 

When crude comments were made and innuendos spoken, Esme was unbothered, and it quietly tickled her when she felt the men stiffen slightly. It wasn’t often that she was more worldly than either of them, and there was some childish pride in it, although she would never admit to it. But mostly they talked about their travels throughout the ages, and they wove their stories through kingdoms and empires, the rise and fall of legends and gods, and on the backs of the Renaissance, the emergence of a new age. Esme listened, captivated, and she didn’t want them to stop. Surely they could tell their stories for months, years, and never need to repeat themselves. She wanted to hear it all. 

Many of the stories that Carlisle shared, Esme had heard before. The sisters were most interested in his time with the Volturi, though, and that was not something he had gone into great detail about. It seemed like such a small part of his life, and whilst Esme did not doubt the importance of his connection with the ruling family of their kind, she was more interested in his work as a doctor and his travels to find companions, rather than his time as a guest in a palace. 

“Did you part with them on good terms?” Tanya asked after Carlisle spoke at length of his time in Volterra. There were creases of concern on her brow. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Carlisle answered sincerely. “I consider the three of them friends, Aro in particular. Although he found my diet curious, and often overstepped the mark when trying to tempt me to feed on a human, we grew very close. We still write often.” 

Tanya smiled, but there was stress in her expression. Irina and Kate were the same. 

“Is something wrong?” Esme asked gently. Edward was looking intently at Tanya. 

Kate shook her head. “Not at all. We are glad for the Volturi’s guidance and protection, and we are glad to uphold the law they rightfully enforce.” 

The words were so stiff, Esme was taken aback, and she didn’t dare reply for fear of being rebuked. 

“We have our own history with the Volturi,” Irina added, her tone much softer than her sister’s. 

“Irina,” Tanya warned sharply. “That’s a tale for another time.” 

Carlisle was smooth and calm when he spoke. “You need not tell us anything you do not wish you. We’re grateful to know whatever part of yourselves you wish to share.” 

His words relaxed the sister, and Esme’s heart swelled in pride. How easily he put others at ease. Tanya spoke again. “Tell us of your story, Edward, we’ve heard much from Carlisle.” 

She smiled broadly at him, and Esme wondered if Edward recognised the flirtation in her eyes that she saw. Probably not, sweet boy, he was much too young for all that. But Edward returned her grin good-naturedly. “I’ve told you my story already, there’s nothing left to say.” 

“I think there’s something else there that you haven’t told us,” Tanya pressed, shifting in her seat to face him more directly. “What are you hiding?” 

“Maybe something,” he teased. “Maybe nothing. A gentleman is allowed to have his secrets.” 

Tanya laughed and reached over to squeeze his arm. Esme and Carlisle shared a glance and they both looked away, trying to hide their smiles. 

They were still talking by the time the sky turned gold. The clock in the hallway struck 6pm and Carlisle looked up in surprise. “Is that the time already? Goodness, I got quite lost there. You ladies must excuse me, I have to be at the hospital in an hour, I forgot to arrange any cover and I can’t leave them without-” 

Kate held up a hand to stop his apology. “We don’t mind at all. We’ll be fine here, we promise. Go save the world.” She wore the same expression that Tanya had when she teased Edward. 

Carlisle was struck speechless under her captivating gaze for a moment before Edward cleared his throat and stood up. “With your permission, I must also take my leave. My class starts at the same time as Carlisle’s shift, and it would be most remiss of me to skip it, even under these exceptional circumstances.” 

The sisters assured the men that they were happy to be left without their company for the evening, remarking that it would be wonderful to be able to get to know Esme better. 

The two men darted upstairs to change before leaving, and Esme followed them. Standing at Edward’s closed doorway, she thought her assurances to him after he had given her a concerned look.  _ I’ll be fine. I’m rather looking forward to getting to know them better, actually. I miss having friends. Not that you’re not my friend! But- _

Her thought was cut off when Edward opened the door in fresh clothes and grinned down at her. He looked cheeky, and she batted his arm lightly.  _ You know what I mean.  _

Edward nodded and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. They waited in the hallway for Carlisle, and he joined them quickly, leaving his door open in an invitation should Esme wish to show the sisters his collection of paintings. Esme was dazzled every time she saw him, even when he was gone from sight for only moments. 

“I can stay if you’d like,” he offered in a quiet whisper, going to Esme automatically. 

His tie was crooked, and she smiled as she straightened it for him. “No, go,” she told him gently, hands resting on his chest. Edward looked away. “I’m glad to have this time with them. I like them.” 

Gently, he held her chin between his finger and thumb and looked into her honey-gold eyes, searching for any fear or hesitation. When he found none, he smiled. It was customary now for him to kiss her forehead before leaving, and he did so now, cool lips pressing against her skin for a long moment. They both closed their eyes, not noticing Edward flit down the stairs and bid farewell to their guests, and Esme’s hands slid from his chest to his waist. It made his breath hitch. 

“Esme,” he whispered like a prayer. 

She pulled back and smiled up at him. “Enjoy your shift, Doctor Cullen.” 

If she ever knew what hearing her say that did to him, Carlisle hoped she would never say it within earshot of Edward, given the thoughts that it flooded his head with. How would something so mundane sound so sinful when the woman he loved said it? He kissed her forehead again before leading her back downstairs and into the sitting room. 

“Esme will look after you while we’re gone,” Carlisle said warmly to the sisters. “Our home is your home, please make yourselves comfortable.” 

“We will,” Kate answered slyly, throwing him a look that could make a priest blush. 

“Thank you, Carlisle,” Tanya added, and he left with a smile. The two men raced each other the short distance to the motor car, and both climbed in. Carlisle would drop Edward off at his class and then go onto the hospital, and Edward usually was given a ride to the top of the drive by one of his classmates. Esme was impressed that he could sit so easily in a confined space with two humans without worrying about attacking them. Hopefully she would be like that one day too. 

The three sisters watched Esme as she settled herself back in the window seat, but none of them said anything until the sound of the motor car was fading into the distance. 

“So Esme,” Irina began. Out of the three, Esme thought she was the most like herself. “How  _ are _ you?”

There was a weight to the question that was difficult to answer so suddenly. She opened her mouth to answer, but words did not come. 

“We don’t mean to intimidate you,” Tanya added, and she reached across to squeeze her hand. It felt nice. “But we noticed that you didn’t say much this afternoon.”

“I… I don’t suppose I had much to add,” Esme admitted quietly, but she squeezed Tanya’s hand in return. “And I think I would be happy to listen to your stories for a very long time without needing to speak.”

Kate laughed, but it wasn’t mocking. “You’re very kind. I think you should know that we are as interested in you as you are in us, though. You’re the first woman we’ve found, other than Carmen, who has this lifestyle. That makes you very interesting.” 

Esme had never thought of herself as  _ interesting _ before. Her human life had been unremarkable, and her vampire life had not yet truly begun, so what was interesting about that? 

“Would you tell us how you were turned?” Irina pressed, but the way she said it did not make Esme feel trapped into answering; she felt that, if she did not want to answer, the sisters would not mind. It was a good feeling. By  _ God _ ! How she had missed the company of women! 

It took a few deep breaths for Esme to find her courage, but the sisters were patient, and already she liked them enough to share this with them. Perhaps it was that they listened to Edward and Carlisle’s stories as keenly as they told their own that she felt they truly wanted to know her simply for the joy of it. Not to hold it over her in the future, not to weaponize it one day, but to know her story just to know it. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. It was easier than meeting three shining sets of eyes. “When I was sixteen, I broke my leg falling from a tree on my family’s farm. I was playing with my sister and had a bet on who could climb the highest; whoever won would get our mother’s old Sunday dress that was so pretty, we both dearly wanted it. Well, I won, but my mother wouldn’t let me wear it in punishment for my clumsiness.” She smiled at the blurry memory. For all her other failings, Esme’s mother had cherished and loved her as a child. “Our usual doctor was not available, and it so happened that the visiting doctor was Carlisle. I… I liked him. He was so kind and gentle, and he was interested in what I had to say. No boy or man had been interested in that before, not really, and the memory stuck with me, as I’m sure the memory of him has stuck with hundreds of women.” 

She paused and looked up. The sisters were watching her, and Irina nodded encouragingly. “But he did not turn you then?” 

Esme smiled and laughed lightly. “Oh, no! It was only a broken leg! But he helped to fix it, and a few weeks after my fall he moved away.” It had been upsetting when he had left, for she had already grown quite attached to the idea of him, however fantastical it was, and perhaps her life would have been easier if she had forgotten him. Of course, she couldn’t. “I later married and fell pregnant. Two days after I gave birth, my boy died. I took a long walk off a short cliff in the hopes of joining him, and I very nearly did. They brought me to the hospital but decided I was already dead. God was smiling on me, though, and it so happened that Carlisle was working at the hospital and he found me. From what he told me, it was quite a frenzied attempt to save me. He thought I fell, you see, just like I fell from that tree, and he remembered me just as I remembered him.” 

Irina had moved from her chair to sit beside Esme in the window seat, and Esme gripped her hand in thanks when Irina took it. “Are you glad he turned you?” she asked. 

Over the past year, it was a question that she had asked herself every day, and every day, she was more sure of the answer. “Yes.  _ He saved _ me. They both did.” 

Squeezing her hand, Irina smiled. “You seem happy with them.” 

“I am. Every day is difficult, and there are things I mourn, but I’m learning to be glad to be alive.” 

“We know what it is to mourn,” Tanya said, patting her knee. “But with a loving family about you, you’ll find happiness again.” 

Esme turned her gaze to the strawberry-blonde woman, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and smiled. “I think you’re right. I have hope for the future. I think I would like to remarry and have children one day, and live a normal life as possible.” 

Irina’s hand was gone from hers suddenly, and the sisters’ gazes turned suspicious. It surprised Esme. “What is it?” 

“What do you mean,  _ have children _ ?” Tanya asked. “Do you mean you wish to create vampires out of human children?” 

“Oh, no!” Esme assured them quickly and the sisters relaxed. They were not as easy as before, though. “How monstrous!” 

“It’s not that simple,” Tanya told her quietly, and suddenly Esme was all out of words. What line had been crossed so suddenly? She would have wanted to curl up and not speak again if it were not for Irina’s kind interruption. 

“Then what  _ did _ you mean, Esme?” she asked. 

She avoided the gaze of the others again and studied the floor instead. “I would like to… bear a child again, and raise it. When my son died, I did not stop being a mother. I still dream of marrying a man I love and having his child.” 

“Esme…” Irina sounded pitiful. Esme closed her eyes. “Did they not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

Tanya came to her other side and rested her hand on her knee. It was still Irina who spoke. “Our bodies are unchanging, Esme. Your blood won’t come again, and we cannot bear children. I’m so sorry this was how you had to find out.” 

Revelations like that do not settle easily in someone. They take years to come to terms with, often even longer. The shock overwhelmed her in the moment, but the reality of her situation took many years for her to grasp fully, and it was never something Esme could move past, not really. It was too much to take in now, and Esme knew she couldn’t even begin to process it in the company of strangers. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the simple thought that she wanted Carlisle. He hadn’t told her about this and she was angry about that, but more than that she just wanted him here to talk to. He helped her untangle her thoughts and understand herself better, and he let her view of the world influence him as much as he influenced her. She didn’t want these women, she wanted him. 

But he was gone for now, and this new piece of information was not something she could face without him. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and smiled at her new friends. “Well, that is something to consider. Thank you for telling me.” Tanya stroked her knee and Esme smiled at her. “It’s not all bad. I had wondered why I had not had my monthly since the change, but had thought that maybe it was another newborn quirk. It’s a bit of a relief, I suppose, to not have to worry about that!”

It was obvious that she was forcing this from herself, but she felt better for it. Better to lie to others and avoid any awkwardness, rather than letting them see her distress and putting them ill at ease. “Besides, I think of Edward as my son, and I love him as dearly as I loved my baby. He’s a gift from God.” 

She smiled at nobody in particular, and Irina squeezed her hand. “You and Carlisle seem quite the pair. You could still fulfil your dream of marriage, could you not?” 

Esme swallowed and noticed Kate’s interest. “I… make no claim on him. Unfortunately I am already bound in marriage. As a human I was married to a man I… ran from. He lives still, and so I am still his wife.” 

Tanya scoffed. “You Americans! So fundamental in your beliefs!”

Her outburst was unexpected, and it made Esme laugh in surprise. “What do you mean?” 

“Your interpretation of God and His laws! Ah, so many of you take the fun from it!”

“We were raised before the Church took hold of our home country,” Kate added with a smile. “But after our changes, we all found our way to God. You must remember, most of our lives have been spent around the company of Catholics in Europe; our favourites were the English and the French, so fun! The Spanish and Portugese were too pius for us, but the others took their vows of marriage so lightly!”

“Luther ruined it for so many,” Tanya joked, and she nudged Esme in jest. “And now most Americans have such sticks up their arses about it!” 

Esme’s eyes widened in shock but she wasn’t offended; she just wasn’t used to this way of talk. 

“Besides,” Tanya continued, “my point is that who cares? You clearly do not care for this husband, if you still consider him that, so why not fuck Carlisle anyway? It’s very plain to see, my friend, that you want to!” 

“If you don’t, I will,” Kate added with a grin. 

Esme hid her laugh behind her hand and looked at Irina who hadn’t commented on this topic so far. “Are they always like this?” she asked. 

“I agree with them,” Irina replied, her eyes sparkling. “And yes, we are. We can’t help it.”

Kate laughed again. “We can, but where’s the fun in that?” 

“So what’s stopping you?” Tanya pressed. “He’s dreadfully handsome. If he looked at me like he looks at you, I would already be on my knees.” 

Esme’s jaw dropped, but she was delighted at how cavalier they were. “I… I just have a different relationship with my faith, that’s all.” 

“Perhaps you should take a leaf out of our book,” Kate said, leaning back in her chair. “Liberate yourself.” 

There was a look in her eye that Esme wondered if that was an offer, but that was far too much to even register. She took a deep breath and trusted her words did not sound too callous. “I am bound to a mortal man, and I cannot be freed from him until his death. I do not wish him to die, nor do I wish to seek revenge for…  _ anything _ . Whenever he passes, be it tomorrow or sixty years from now, I will be free and then I will consider my options. Until then, I make no claim on anyone.” 

Irina sniffed in disapproval but Kate grinned. “Well, that’s all the permission I need.” 

“Would you seek to make him your mate?” Esme asked. She knew roughly what the word  _ mate _ meant, even if it felt more appropriate for animals than vampires.  _ Mate _ meant life partner, lover, companion, soulmate. It was more than a spouse, more than bonding of the flesh, it meant  _ everything _ . The way Carlisle had described it had stuck with her. To find one’s mate was to find one’s soul, one’s other half. Once a true mate was found, the world was set in balance. They were the sun in the morning and the stars at night; the wind and the rain and the sea and the sky. They were the centre of one’s life, the reason for living. Once a mate was lost, life ceased to have all meaning and joy. He had explained he had never felt it first-hand, but knew enough mated pairs to understand the theory behind it. She had begun to understand it over the past year. Even now, as she thought of it, there was a pain in her chest flaring, she missed him so dearly. Only his presence eased that pain. 

Tanya laughed and Kate shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t seek to make him my mate. But I would like his tongue inside me.” 

Esme spluttered and Tanya and Kate laughed loudly. Irina patted her hand comfortingly but smiled too. 

“Don’t worry, Esme,” Irina told her, throwing Kate a sly look. “Kate can be very… talented, but she has been refused before. It’s rare, but it happens. I think he will refuse her. He didn’t seem open to the idea when she mentioned it earlier, did he?” 

Esme bit her lip and smiled, trying to hide the genuine fear that was beginning to creep in. “He is a man of God,” she agreed. 

“So are the rest of them,” Kate countered smugly. “They usually find the Lord Almighty between my thighs.” 

“Oh, do shut up,” Irina laughed. “Don’t tease Esme so, not when she’s so graciously hosted us! Ignore her, Esme. If you love Carlisle, she will make no advances.” 

Despite the fear in her heart, Esme put on her best smile. “I make no claim on him,” she said again. “But please do be kind with him. He is the best man you will ever know, and he is no toy. He’s… he’s very remarkable.” 

“We know,” Tanya agreed. “No lines will be crossed that shouldn’t be.” 

Trying to distract herself, Esme blurted out the first thing she could think of to change the subject. “Do you have similar ideas about Edward?” 

“Perhaps.” Tanya smiled so brightly that Esme couldn’t see anything else for a moment, it blinded her. How lovely her face was, how stunning her features. Yes, that was the word; Esme was  _ stunned _ . “He is handsome. But he’s so  _ young _ , I’ll tread carefully.” 

Esme blinked and came back to herself. The way Tanya’s smile dazzled her reminded her of the first time she had seen, with her vampire eyes, Carlisle. Every time she saw him now, the centre of gravity shifted. It was him, it was  _ always _ him. “Edward is a wonderful young man, but he’s like his father. They’re both very traditional. They’re more likely to follow their hearts and their traditions than their, ah, more carnal temptations.” 

Kate laughed. “Tanya’s very persuasive.”

“Edward… might surprise you,” Esme answered. The sisters did not yet know about Edward’s telepathy. “But please be gentle with him. I think he would sooner find love than a  _ lover _ . He has a passionate soul and a good heart, and I would ask you not to mislead him.” But she smiled, hoping Tanya would take her words kindly. 

Tanya leaned against Esme and smiled again. “I promise. We  _ all _ do. Beyond anything else, we simply long for friends. Nothing beyond that matters. We’re just glad to have found your family; the world has been so lonely for so long.” 

After all the crass talk, Esme was glad to hear the sincerity in Tanya’s voice, and it consoled her. Yes, they wanted to have some fun, and yes that might risk losing the hope of Carlisle, but she had  _ no claim on him _ , and these women wanted a family as much as she did. Perhaps, at last, life was about to begin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help but write all women as at least a little bit bi, don't know if you can tell. That's because I'm a big fat lesbian and I love when women!!!!! And I lowkey get dumbass bi vibes from Esme like she's bi she just doesn't realise it, she just is like "yeah I think women are beautiful and wonderful and I would like to kiss one and hold the hand of one and make love to one and maybe marry one and have kids with one and grow old with one but don't all straight women feel that way??? Lol" anyway Esme/Carlisle 4ever but they can't kiss for anotehr 15,000 words. Love u xx


	9. Damned Regardless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I was only lying when I said that Carlisle and Esme would have to wait another 15k words to kiss. They can have a little moment. As a treat. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe the chapter after this. Side note I am Kate, inappropriately horny for Carlisle. Not proof read as per usual. 
> 
> Oh hey I have recently decided that, thanks to Peter Fascinelli's very tactile approach to Carlisle with Esme, that Carlisle's love language is touch! I hope u agree cause they do always be touching in the films and it makes me cold heart beat again!
> 
> Thank you for the delightfully kind comments. Thank you Naushin for your encouragement and positivity, I'm so glad to be able to share this with you.

Edward was home by ten thirty that evening after his class had finished and his classmate had dropped him home. Esme was glad to see him; any time apart from either of her men left an uneasiness in her stomach. She greeted him in the hallway as she always did, taking his jacket and welcoming the kiss he laid on her forehead. He told the group of his evening lesson and Esme listened with interest, and the sisters were intrigued by the family’s commitment to still living in the human world. When they asked their questions, Edward answered honestly. As Esme had not yet returned to the human world, he was better suited to it, anyway. 

They talked through the night and Esme convinced Edward to show off his musical talents. There was such pride in her when she asked him to play something and the sisters reiterated their wish to hear his skills, it seemed to Esme that Edward couldn’t help but show off with the latest addition to his repertoire, the infamously technical _ Étude Op. 10 No. 4 _ by Chopin. She was smug when his fingers flew across the keys with ease. A piece designed for exhibition of talent and skill, Edward was now able to play it with no mistakes, although it had taken considerable practice to master. Tanya was especially interested, and watched his hands with interest as he played. 

It did not take much guessing to know what she was probably thinking about, and Edward glanced at Esme when it was clear she had guessed right. She suppressed a laugh. Edward was more than capable of looking after himself. After he had finished showing off, he slid into a piece Carlisle favoured recently,  _ La fille aux cheveaux de lin _ , a soft and sweet piece. Carlisle had read the poem that inspired it to her one spring evening as the sun sank and the sky turned to gold; “ _ on the lucerne midst flowers in bloom, who sings praises to morning? It is the girl with golden hair, the beauty with lips of cherry. For love, in clear summer sunlight, has soared with the lark and sung now. _ ” 

Esme might have blushed if she had thought Carlisle would dare to be so bold. But too forward, and too ostentatious, was such a poem for him to read to her and mean anything by it. No, the words were just words, she told herself, and he was only sharing it with her because he enjoyed it. Still, she fantasized to herself in secret that maybe he had read aloud to her the words of another, as he himself could not find his own words to confess. Childish and fantastical were her ideas, of course, and she banished them quickly. Still, the music reminded her of him. 

Carlisle returned home as dawn approached. Esme had taken up the swinging chair on the porch to await his arrival. The sky was clear, a soft blue and yellow, and the air was crisp. Dew dusted the grass and flowers and trees and it turned the world to diamonds. It was so peaceful here. Birds began chirping in the trees as the day began on this warm spring day. Inside, the conversation had died out peacefully, and the sisters were scattered in the house. Kate was in Carlisle’s office, looking at the pictures and paintings on the wall, and Irina had taken to Esme’s balcony with one of Carlisle’s first edition volumes of Kant. Tanya sat with Edward in the dining room, sheet music spread out across the table, helping him to sort the mixed up papers back into order in comfortable silence, and they only made quiet remarks here and there to better organise. 

Out on the main road, the familiar sound of the motorcar sounded from the distance. The engine roared as it was pushed down the empty road; Carlisle liked to drive fast. Gravel crunched when he turned onto their long drive and Esme smiled to herself. Even when he was only away for hours, Esme missed him.  _ Carlisle’s home _ . 

He parked and came up the stairs onto the porch with a smile that made her heart ache. “Good morning, Esme,” he murmured. When he came close to kiss her forehead, Esme could smell alcohol clinging to him, and she wrinkled her nose. 

“Busy night?” she asked, and he touched her nose with a smile. 

“My apologies.” His smile faltered. Smelling this strong usually only meant one thing; a shift with large amounts of blood on him. Better to come home reeking of chemicals than human blood, though. “An emergency came in. Two men were gunned down in the street last night. It was all hands on deck.” 

“How terrible,” Esme replied, concern in her voice. She touched his arm. “How did it go?” 

“As well as possible. They’re both still alive - for now, at least. I’ll check on them when I go in tonight.” 

Esme nodded, and gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. “With you there, they’ll be given the best chance possible. The rest is in God’s hands.” 

His smile returned at that. “That, it is.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but with so many ears nearby, he knew to save it for later. In Esme he had such a sympathetic confidant. Edward, as intelligent and understanding as he was, always tried to rationalise Carlisle’s concerns and fix them, which of course had its own merit, but sometimes Carlisle merely needed to talk about something without attempting to make it better. Esme understood that without him ever needing to say it. “I’m glad to be home. How are our guests?” 

“Well looked after,” came Kate’s reply from his office, and tinkling laughter could be heard throughout the house. Carlisle grinned down at Esme and linked his arm through hers, keeping her close. He seemed nervous, but excited. They joined Kate in the office and Carlisle talked about each painting and drawing, going from left to right around the room, telling his personal history with the visual aides he had collected through the years. Like a shadow, Esme followed him, and he leaned towards her now and again like a magnate. But for every look he gave her, another was granted to Kate, and she seemed to hang onto his every word. After a while, Esme withdrew from their company and joined Edward and Tanya in the dining room. The sun was just peeking over the tops of the trees and streaming into the east-facing dining room, and Esme admired how Edward’s skin danced in the light. He looked up as he heard her soft thoughts, and she went to his side. 

“Are you nearly finished with this?” Esme asked. She moved to stand behind where he sat, and rested her hands on his shoulders. Edward covered one of her hands with his own, stroking his mother’s skin affectionately. 

“Yes, just the Joplin to sort now,” Edward replied. Stacks and stacks of manuscript were now organised around the table, and Tanya sat opposite them looking satisfied. 

_ Perhaps I could play that, and you could show Tanya how us Americans can have fun _ , Esme thought humorously, picturing Edward dancing happily around the sitting room with Tanya in his arms as she thumped the ragtime jig into life on the piano. 

Edward snorted. “I think not.” 

Esme froze, realising a split second too late that he had answered the thought she had not spoken aloud, and the confusion on Tanya’s face told both of them that she had not missed that. 

“You do not think _what_?” the beautiful blonde asked suspiciously, looking between Edward and Esme. 

“Ah, it’s… ah-” Esme stammered, lost for words. Edward was no help, either. 

“What have you not told us?” Tanya asked, her suspicion turning into curiosity. Upstairs, Carlisle had stopped speaking. 

Irina was at Tanya’s side suddenly, and then Kate appeared, too. Carlisle joined them more slowly, and Esme saw him staring at Edward, communicating silently with him. Edward held his gaze as the sisters watched, and eventually he shook his head and sighed. 

“You’re very perceptive, Tanya,” Edward said. There must have been something in her mind that relaxed him, though, and he grinned. “Please, take a seat, Kate and Irina. I know I’m not the only one who’s kept a secret.” 

He turned to look up at Esme and tilted his head in indication that she should sit also, and she took a seat on Edward’s left, Carlisle on her left. She felt protected between the two of them. Still, it felt strangely combative to have the three of them on one side, and the sisters on the other of the table. 

“We hid nothing from you maliciously,” Carlisle said calmly, one hand on the table and the other against his thigh. They sat so close together that when Esme rested her hand on her own leg, it took only the smallest movement of her wrist for her little finger to catch his. It was such a comfort to feel his finger curl against hers in secret. “I wanted to make sure that it wouldn’t put Edward at risk before disclosing anything, though.” 

Tanya cocked her head to the side, although there was a glint in her eye. “Whatever do you mean?” 

Edward laughed quietly. “I think you know that he’s referring to my, ah, _ gift _ . But we hid no more than you.” 

Tanya’s eyes went wide, although she was grinning. “I don’t know what you  _ mean _ , Edward. What are you accusing us of?” 

Irina looked genuinely confused. Kate looked as at ease as usual, although she looked at Edward with interest. 

“I’ve guessed your secret and you’ve guessed mine, that is all,” Edward said, still smiling. 

“Well, I’m still not entirely sure of what I’ve guessed,” Tanya admitted. 

Irina said something quietly in a language Esme did not understand, sounding somewhat distressed. Perhaps, like Esme, not knowing something was too much to bear, and Tanya lay a soothing hand on her cheek. “It’s nothing to fear, Irishka.” The tenderness between them made Esme long for female companionship like that, but that was a thought for later. 

_ Will you tell them plainly, and quell their fears? _ she thought, looking at Edward. He turned his smile to her and nodded slightly. 

“I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours.” 

Kate shifted in her seat as he turned his gaze to her, and she raised a challenging eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She was doing a poor job at hiding her grin. 

“Very well,” came Edward’s reply, and he looked back at Esme and Carlisle. “Kate has a wonderful gift of causing extreme pain to someone on command. From what I can tell, she can do it to anyone who she touches.” 

Carlisle’s hand suddenly closed around Esme’s, and fear flashed in his eyes. She squeezed his hand beneath the table and he took a breath to steady himself. When she nodded at him, despite her own apprehension, he smiled and looked back at the three sisters. “Is this true?” 

Kate bit her lip as she smirked at Carlisle. “Maybe. Why not come and touch me, and find out? If you touch me right, I’ll have you seeing sparks.” 

Esme slipped her hand out of Carlisle’s at that, but Edward snorted. “You’d better tell him what that means before he dies from fright.” 

Kate laughed as she held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Are you brave enough?”

“He might be, but I’m not,” Esme answered suddenly, and although she forced a smile, it was strained. Carlisle would not be put in harms way. “We trust your word, I don’t think a demonstration is necessary.” 

“Have you ever seen electricity go wrong?” Tanya asked, leaning forward, her mood bright. 

“Not firsthand,” Carlisle admitted, trying to ignore Kate’s apparent pursuit of him. He wanted to reach back out to Esme but her hands were folded in front of her on the table now. 

“Well imagine grasping a live wire with both hands, and letting the current surge through you. How it would rip through every cell in your body, and burn you from the inside out.” There was eagerness in Tanya’s eyes now, as if she relished the thought. “That’s what Kate can do. Well, she can make you think that. There’s no real impact on the body - just the mind.” 

Leaning back in her chair, Kate looked smug. “I can control how painful the shock is. It can be anything from a tickle, to completely incapacitating. Both can come in handy.” 

Esme’s eyes widened as Kate winked at Carlisle, and from the corner of her eye she saw him suppress a smile. It was easier to look at her hands than the faces of the sisters. 

“And you, Edward?” Irina pressed. She was more anxious than her sisters. 

“I can read minds,” he answered simply.

“Like Aro?” 

Carlisle shook his head. “No. Edward can read the thoughts of anyone close by without touching them, but whatever thoughts are passing through the mind at that moment.” 

“I wondered if it was something he could only do with you,” Tanya mused. “The looks between you did not go unnoticed.” 

Edward laughed. “It would be much easier if it was just Carlisle’s thoughts I could hear, but no, I can hear all of your thoughts at this very moment, as I have been able to since we met, except when I went to my class last night.” 

“How far can you hear someone from?” Kate asked. 

“I can hear Carlisle and Esme from a few miles away. The closer I am with someone, the better I can hear them, I think.” 

“The longer Esme has been with us, the further away Edward can get and still hear her.” 

Esme smiled up at Edward and he rubbed her forearm. It was like a quantitative measure of their bond that he could hear her thoughts from a great distance as he could hear Carlisle’s now, and it made them both happy. 

“How far away could you hear us?” Tanya asked. 

“I could distinguish your thoughts from around a mile and a half away, so it wasn’t an accident that our paths crossed. Vampire minds sound very different from human minds, but that’s to be expected.” 

“So, just to be completely clear, you have heard our every thought since we first met?” Irina asked, looking stunned. 

Edward nodded. “Aside from when I left for my class, yes. I try to give those around me as much privacy as possible, but I do admit to listening in when we first met, but can you blame me? I didn’t want to put my family at risk.” 

Tanya laughed incredulously. “Yes, yes, of course! How amazing! Do others know of your gift?” 

Carlisle cleared his throat. “No, they don’t, and we would rather keep it that way. There are those who are… collectors, and I would rather not  _ my son _ be exposed to or coveted by those covens.” There was a ring of authority in his voice. 

“Same with Kate,” Tanya agreed. A look passed between the two leaders of the covens and it was like a silent agreement had been made: their secrets were safe. 

“So what  _ exactly _ have you heard from us?” Kate asked after a moment, breaking the silence. She was as relaxed as ever, cheeky. 

“Well,” Edward began, blinking as he sifted through his memories. “I know why you were in the city in the first place. You were visiting three men, one a banker, one a bar owner, and one a professor. Humans, of course, and men that you have known for five? No,  _ fifteen  _ years. They’re brothers, two are married and one is widowed. You visit them… every few years or so. They don’t know what you are, but they all worship you, and you like that. One of them thinks you’re angels, and another thinks you’re demons but he doesn’t care.” Edward was watching Tanya as he spoke slowly, and there was a grin on his face. Perhaps being exposed to young men his age had desensitised Edward to the idea of sex more than Esme had assumed. 

Irina, who had looked cautious until this point, laughed, and the others joined her. 

“You are naughty,” Tanya said, mirth in her voice. “I dread to think how much you have heard in your short life that you shouldn’t have.” 

“Oh, I hear all sorts,” he joked. He was visibly more relaxed now that it was all out in the open, although Esme remained guarded. 

“What’s the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard?” Kate pressed. “Whatever it is, I’ll beat it.” She bit her lip and smiled broadly. 

“Absolutely not necessary,” came Edward’s reply and he held up his hand as if to stop her, even in jest. “But I am glad that you know now. I didn’t want your companion to arrive and know of my talent but think I was hiding it from you.” 

“Which you were,” Tanya pointed out coyly.

“No more than you hid Kate’s talent,” he countered, and she laughed again. “It was not meant maliciously.” 

“I’d like to see how far you can hear us now,” Kate interrupted, and she stood up as if it were already decided. “Come on, let’s run!”

Edward laughed, but the other sisters agreed, and he looked to Esme and Carlisle. “There’s no time like the present, I suppose, and I love a run!” 

Carlisle smiled warmly at him. “I think if Esme and I came with you, you would be at a disadvantage; you can hear us so clearly that it would be a distraction. I wouldn’t want to skew the results of your experiment.” 

Kate snorted as if she saw through that like glass, but Edward seemed to agree. “Alright. We’ll go west until you’re out of range, and then we’ll see.” 

They had dashed out without much more fuss, and the house was empty again. How could it be that it had only been yesterday that the women had arrived? 

Carlisle didn’t move from his chair when Esme got up and moved to stand in the window. The sun had barely risen much further than where it had been when Carlisle returned home, and the golden light hit her skin and sent fragments of colour dancing across the walls and ceilings. How glorious it would be to see her bare in the morning sun. 

“Carlisle, may I speak frankly with you?” she asked nervously. With her back to him, she looked out across the front yard and down the lane that wove through the trees, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were holding herself together. 

“Of course,” came his gentle reply. He clasped his hands together in his lap, thinking of how warm he had felt when it had been her hand in his. 

“You know I love you, as my creator and companion, and I am so grateful for the life you have given me. I will never be able to repay you for your kindness.” 

There was a whisper of fabric and scrape of a chair, and she closed her eyes when she felt him come to her side. “What’s wrong, Esme?” he asked gently. 

It was difficult to express any kind of negative emotion. Esme didn’t feel like she was entitled to sadness or grief or anger; those were emotions that only men could have, ones that nice young ladies should be above. And even if she  _ was _ allowed them, by the grace of God, surely it wasn’t fair to burden others with her anger or pain. Already guilt crept in for even bringing this up with him. Carlisle was beyond reproach, and yet… he had hurt her. 

The window was cool under her touch when she reached out to it, and she watched the condensation drip onto her finger. “Why did you not tell me that I would never have children again?”

Silence fell between them. He took a step back as if to give her more space because he knew how easily threatened she felt, yet now it felt like a crack in the foundations of the earth was opening up. She swallowed. “I’m sorry to ask, but-”

“Please don’t apologise,” Carlisle breathed. Remorse was thick in his voice. She was doing it again. She was ruining his bliss at finding others like them. How evil was she? Couldn’t this have waited? Why should her sorrow take precedence over his joy? “I’m so sorry, Esme, I should have told you. But after all you have been through, I didn’t want to add to your pain. I wanted to bring you into a world that is good and bright and full of hope.” 

“The world isn’t always like that.”

“No, it’s not. You deserve the truth. I regret that I did not give you that when you deserved it. I will never hide anything from you again.” 

It was impossible to not look at him any longer, and when she turned her gaze to him, the air went from her lungs. She forgot to breathe. How her heart hurt to look at his beautiful eyes, his radiant face. Never had she loved another like this. Every part of her yearned to close the distance between them and wrap him in her arms and tell him there is nothing to be forgiven, that their world  _ is _ good and he  _ does _ fill her with hope. But the distance was still too great. It hurt too much. She was a mother but would have no other child. She was a wife who feared and loathed her husband. She was a lover without being able to give her heart. What curses to bear. Why not throw it all into the fire, anyway? She could only bring him pain, why not help him into the arms of one who could bring joy? 

The thought brought her resolve, although it was fragile and self-destructive. “And I hide nothing from you. Kate wants you. You should give her your time.” 

There was a crease on his brow and his lips parted in unhappiness. “I want their friendship, nothing more.”

“You told me yesterday that you wished to wed a woman who shares the diet we have. Destiny brought you three women, beautiful and intelligent and warm and funny, and free. Kate is a delight. Please, give her a chance. You deserve to be loved like that.” 

At his sides, Carlisle’s hands balled into fists. “She’s not who I want.”

“You haven’t given her a chance.” Venom sped through her body like adrenaline, fear coursing through her. Rationally, she knew Carlisle would never strike her. But her body remembered another life, another  _ man _ , and it would protect her this time. 

He could barely keep his voice even now. “Why do you fight this, Esme? We know how this ends.” 

Her throat burned as she took in a deep breath. She would need to hunt soon. A forced, stiff smile appeared on her pretty face. “Yes, we do. It ends with you finding a woman to love, who can love you without compromise.” 

“You don’t compromise.” 

He was faster and stronger than her. She should have been afraid, but when his arms were suddenly around her and he was pulling her tight against him, she felt liberated.  _ Yes! _ she wanted to shout,  _ make this decision for me! Don’t make me fight anymore!  _ The right words didn’t come. “Carlisle, don’t do this to me-”

“You’re breaking my heart.” Anguish contorted his face. “I don’t care that you’re married. I don’t care for the love of another. I’ve found you after waiting for you for centuries. Don’t force me away from you, I won’t go.” 

“I won’t  _ damn _ you,” she whispered. But her hands clutched his back, fingers longing to tear through his jacket and shirt, free him of the hospital alcohol and drown in his body, his scent, and she reached up on her toes, straining her face close to his. 

“What if I’m damned regardless?” 

The air between them was too thick to breathe. He held her so tightly, and she didn’t want to escape. “You’re not damned.” Her words were nothing more than a whisper. She wanted to be, she wanted him. She  _ deserved  _ him. 

The way that Carlisle gripped the back of her dress told Esme that he was as close to breaking as she. His other hand knotted in the hair at the back of her head and her body tensed in anticipation. He didn’t yank or pull, he just held her there. And then his lips were tracing her ear and she clung to his strong shoulders. 

“I will never stop wanting you,” he murmured. The feeling of his breath against her skin was almost too much. Elegant fingers ran through golden hair. “I will wait for you as long as it takes, my love.” 

_ Kill him _ , came her selfish thought.  _ Kill Charles and let me be yours.  _

“I love you.” 

And suddenly, the crack closed. He pulled back to search her dark eyes for a heartbeat, and then he kissed her. The world ceased to exist. There was nothing but the two of them, locked in an embrace that neither could bear to break. Damned or not, it did not matter now. To feel his lips against hers was the only absolution she needed. Life and death no longer mattered. This was alpha and omega. This was the beginning and the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably do a time jump after this. Hey who remembers who Edward's first canon kill is? Wink wink.


	10. A Tentative Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esme and Carlisle have finally spoken their feelings aloud, but need to figure out where this leaves them. Please note that there are religious themes in this chapter. Idk it just happened, Carlisle's relationship with his faith is clearly very important and although the books imply that Esme doesn't have a faith, that didn't sit right with me given her 1910s rural Ohio upbringing. Mentions of rape and domestic abuse also feature, but it's only in passing, not going into details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter!! Hope that's ok! Thank you much for your on-going support of this fic, all of your comments actually make me so so so so so so so happy! Right now I know it's a lot of conversations rather than action, I'm tryna figure out how to get more action in there. Also Carlisle said hes ready for that WAP and Esme said not in MY good Christian house!!! Edward definitely gets it from his mother.

Carlisle held her in his arms and nothing before had ever felt so good. Never before had anything felt like this. He was home. 

Esme’s hands were at the nape of his neck, gentle fingers stroking the hair there, and his touch found its way up and down her sides, strong arms wrapping around her back. He pulled her tight against him and her lips parted in response. He could taste her on his tongue. 

Moments passed, the whisper of their kisses marking the passage of time. It didn’t matter to either of them, though. What could matter now, what could stop them now, when the fear and the pain was overcome, and they could finally be true to one another? Carlisle dared to hope in his heart that all would be easy and well now. 

When Esme gently broke the kiss and looked up at him with wide, dark eyes, something was amiss. He eased his hold on her, arms now loose around her waist, and he raised one hand to run his knuckles along her cheek. She leaned instinctively into his touch. “What’s wrong, Esme?” 

She turned slightly to kiss his fingers and held his gaze. “I do love you, Carlisle.” 

He smiled softly, but concern still creased his brow. “I love you, too. Tell me what worries you. Please?” Nerves fluttered in his stomach but the high of her kiss would not be brought down. 

“I… I don’t know… I… how to say it?” 

“However you can.” 

She swallowed and took the hand at her cheek, lacing her fingers through his. His thumb stroked the back of her hand comfortingly. It seemed to give her confidence. “I won’t  _ damn _ you.” 

“You won’t.” 

“Then we can have this moment, and nothing more.” She squeezed his hand as if to illustrate her point. “We can commit no further sin.” 

Carlisle smiled weakly. “I sin every day, Esme. I do my best, but what we live is a lie. Every word to a human is a lie, every document and every dime. We are already living in sin, why not indulge?” 

She smiled softly. “Because we are sorry for that. We regret that and we ask forgiveness for that. Would you be sorry to love another man’s wife?” 

Carlisle felt her gentle gaze penetrate him. How well she knew him, to play him like this. “No, I wouldn’t be sorry.” He sighed, and left a loving kiss on her forehead. 

“You cannot be forgiven a sin for which you do not repent. I won’t be the cause of that.” 

“Loving you is no sin, Esme.” 

She shook her head and her caramel curls bounced around her pretty face. “If you found someone else, you would not need to wait.” 

Carlisle stroked the back of her head and smiled, before leading her out of the dining room. Together they went to his library and stood before the huge painting from Italy. There was a small space between them, although their little fingers remained linked. “You like this painting, don’t you?” 

Below the balcony upon which Carlisle and his friends stood, the humans below were thrown into chaos. Bodies writhed in pain and pleasure, contorted and intertwined, lavishly dressed and entirely naked. Over the centuries, the varnish had turned the picture dark, and the shadows cast across it made it even more sinister than before. But Esme had an eye for art, and favouring simple, plain home designs did not carry over to her love of paintings. She liked them big and bold and detailed, dreadful in their beauty. Perhaps that’s why she was drawn to this one. 

“Parts of it,” she confirmed. Her eyes did not drift to the humans below, but her gaze was carefully fixed on the balcony. 

Carlisle pointed to the youngest looking vampire on the balcony with him. The man was almost as tall as Carlisle, standing toward the back, his dark hair hanging to his shoulders. Dressed as fine as a king, there was something haunting about his face. Where there was such life everywhere else, this man was utterly void of it. “Marcus,” he said. Intelligent and talented, with a kindness in his heart that was rarely able to shine, Carlisle had liked the quietest of the Volturi trio. Such a shame. “He looks different to the others.” 

“I had noticed when I saw this the first time,” Esme agreed. “He looks… sad.” 

_ Sad _ was certainly one word for it. Carlisle smiled sadly at the thought. “When vampires find their true mate, they are changed. Not all of us have one, and our lives are none the worse for it. I did not think I would ever find one, and it didn't trouble me.” He glanced at Esme but she was engrossed in Marcus’ face. “But Marcus had his mate, and he lost her.”

“What happened?” 

“She was murdered.”

Esme went stiff. “Why?” 

“No one knows. Her killer was never known, either. But it destroyed Marcus. He is the only person I have known to have lost a mate and survived. Most find ways to follow their partners into death, because life is no longer worth living. The pain is too great.” 

Her hand slipped back into his and he squeezed. She, out of anyone, knew what that felt like. “That’s very sad. When did she die?” 

“Around three thousand years ago.” 

Esme’s head whipped to look at him. She was shocked. “Three thousand years?” 

“I know. It’s unimaginable. The life he leads, too, is… it’s no life. He is a shell. Nothing interests him, nothing eases his pain, nothing distracts him. He is the living dead. I think it must be Hell.” She looked upset. Carlisle knew how deeply she could love, how empathetic she was, and how it hurt her to hear of even a stranger’s pain. He squeezed her hand again. “After Aro and Caius saw how utterly destroyed Marcus was when he lost Didyme, they began forming their guard and it took an early form of what it is today. They protect their wives at all costs. They know that to lose their mates would mean losing everything.” 

“Carlisle-”

“I don’t want to force you into anything,” he pressed gently. “I only mean to reassure you. There has never been anyone else. There will never be anyone else. I will wait for as long as we need to.” 

How easily  _ we _ came from him.  _ Us. Together. You and I.  _ He was nervous to say it, but she gave him one of her sweetest smiles, and he knew it was the right thing. Perhaps a little dramatic, but right. 

“It may take a long time,” she warned, but there was warmth in her voice. 

“That’s alright. As I promised, I will wait for you as long as it takes, my love.” 

He leaned down to kiss her again, but she turned her head away and he caught her cheek. “We must live in a godly way, Carlisle. As friends. Let us not stray into sin.” 

Of course, she was right. Their relationships with God were as important as their relationship with each other, but the simple man within Carlisle just wanted her. No laws and no gods, just a man who loved a woman. Life would never be that simple, of course. He nodded, and repeated “as long as it takes.” A shadow passed over Esme’s face that surprised him. “Is something wrong?” 

She bit her bottom lip and hesitated. “Do you think… do you think that it’s wrong?” 

“No,” Carlisle murmured. “I don’t.”

Esme shook her head. “No, I mean…  _ as long as it takes. _ Is it wrong of us to hope for his death?”

That thought hadn’t occurred to Carlisle in this context, but she was right, again, that _ was  _ what they were hoping for. The sooner, the better, too. Violence repulsed him, but a quick and painless death to wipe that man off the face of the earth was not abhorrent to him. One day, he had no doubt, Esme would tell them what had happened to her, but not yet. There were enough clues there, though, that he and Edward had made their best guesses. Beatings. Rapes. Psychological damage. She had so much love in her heart but none of it was for herself anymore. She still started at sudden noises, sudden movements. She was so sensitive to the slightest change in mood and tone, and she could see sour moods from a mile away. It wasn’t fair. It was unforgivable. To hurt someone as gentle as Esme was the greatest sin. And so no, it wasn’t wrong for Carlisle to hope that that man would be gone from this life as soon as possible. Not for him, but for Esme. She deserved a world free of him. 

“Do you want him dead?” he asked quietly. 

Another long pause. “I don’t know. I wish… I wish he had never been born. But if I had not suffered him, I would not have been brought to you.” She glanced down shyly, as if fearing reproach. 

It was true, but it made Carlisle’s heart sink. It was unpleasant to wonder if she saw her life with Carlisle as a reward for her suffering with Charles. “Esme. Please.” She looked up at him. “Would you like him to die?” 

She shook her head, suddenly sure. “No. I won’t sentence him to death.” Maybe it had sounded too real for her. 

Carlisle swallowed and nodded. “As you say.” A swift neck break, the crushing of the skull, a bullet to the brain. It would be so easy, so painless, and he would be gone. But the grief in Esme’s eyes grounded him and the red at the corners of his vision faded away; he hadn’t even noticed the anger rise in him until it was going. 

Squeezing his hand one last time, Esme moved away from the painting and drifted down the wall, settling her gaze on an oil painting of a dreamy city, white buildings in the background and a busy river in the foreground. Gondolas stretched across the river with their wares, and the docks were filled with bustling crowds, animals, merchants and traders, and the morning fog drifted upward towards the cream and blue sky. Carlisle missed the ancient cities of Italy, the sprawling marble and granite palaces, the timeless cathedrals and churches, the wine and olive and incense in the air. Cities of the New World brought their opportunities, certainly, but they lacked the beauty and history of Christendom. Still, the past was the past, and here lay the future. 

“You haven’t told me about this one before,” she remarked, her tone much lighter than before. She always seemed happy talking about art. 

He went to her side and clasped his hands behind his back. “Ah, forgive me. Have you heard of the English painter Turner?” 

Esme smiled. “Of course.”

“This was painted by a rather good forger. It wonderfully replicates  _ The Dogano, San Giorgio, Citella, from the Steps of the Europa.” _

“What a catchy name.” 

He chuckled. “Quite. It depicts Venice at the mouth of the Grand Canal when Turner was staying there in the nineteenth century.”

"Is it very different to how you remember?” 

“Yes. Only a hundred years between my visit and the painting, but what a hundred years. Never before has there been such progress in such a short amount of time.” He sighed, but there was no ill feeling. In the air he could taste the oil and varnish of the paintings, the wood of the frames, Esme.

“Would you ever want to visit again?” 

“Yes, for a short while. I couldn’t live there again, though.” Esme looked at him in a silent question, and he smiled. “Far too much sunlight.” 

She laughed, and looked back at the piece. “I think I would like to see it one day. It looks very beautiful.” 

Still watching her, he agreed. “Very beautiful indeed. We’ll go there one day, when you’re ready.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for weeks at sea with no food, and so close to humans.” She looked a little ashamed at the confession, although Carlisle thought it was very rational. 

“Well, in that case, we’ll just swim.” He looked at her with raised eyebrows, glad to see her surprise, and couldn’t stop himself from laughing at her expression. She quickly broke, too, and she leaned against him. 

“That’s settled then,” she agreed. “One day, when it’s especially cloudy, we’ll swim across the Atlantic, through the Mediterranian, and right down the Grand Canal. I’ll meet you on the steps of  _ The Europa _ .”


	11. Walking with Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you gotta walk before you can run. Sometimes the Devil says it's time to sprint, bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, we're now in May(ish) of 1922, still in Calgary. I know the fic is tagged as canon compliant but I am taking liberties with Carlisle and Esme's timeline, as already mentioned. After the trauma Esme went through with everything, I just don't think that she or Carlisle would have been in a good place to get married so quickly. Esme still considers herself married to Charles anyway, so there's that blockage there. Edward is meant to go off on his own in around 1925-1927-ish, and then be back by 1929, from what I can tell, but I will probably be moving this date forward. I'm sorry if this fic is getting a little boring, it's more character driven than action driven.

The next day brought with it rain. The sisters had left the previous evening with the setting of the sun and a promise that they would return with their brother and sister. The three Cullens had no reason to disbelieve them, especially when they had come back in such high spirits learning that Edward could already hear them from a greater distance than before, and Carlisle in particular was eager for their return with his old acquaintance. Whether Edward had noticed the change in Carlisle and Esme, he did not say, and most of the attention of the group was on the sisters, anyway. 

Esme curled up in her window seat as she reflected on the past few days. Condensation made her forehead damp when she leaned her head on the glass, and she closed her eyes, letting the sound of the rain and the fire in the hearth fill her ears. How content she felt. How lucky she was to have new friends to add to her loving family. She had fed before the rain came and so even her thirst did not bother her now. Perhaps this life could be beautiful. 

Carlisle sat in his armchair close by with a fat book in his lap. He had come with her on her hunt this morning and his hair was still tousled from the run. She watched him with a soft gaze, happiness in her heart. Edward was taking advantage of the grey sky and had taken the motorcar into the city to browse the music shops for his newest challenge, and she wished he was here, too. It never felt complete when he was gone. It would have been pleasant to go with him, but only a year had passed since her transformation, and the city was busy. The idea was tempting, though. 

“Carlisle?” she murmured. He looked up at her with a soft expression and smiled. It ought to be a sin to look so happily at her, she thought. “I… I think… I think I’d like to try… something.” It was incredibly difficult to voice any kind of desire, let alone such a momentous one. He might laugh at her, or tell her she is being ridiculous. He might tell her she was stupid to think she would ever be ready. 

_ No! _ she reminded herself.  _ That’s not Carlisle, and Carlisle is not  _ him _. _ Still, there were knots in her stomach. 

He cocked his head to the side. “Something?” he asked. 

She bit her lip nervously and nodded. “I feel very… in control.” 

Relief washed over her when he smiled, understanding what she could not put into words. “Would you like to go for a walk?” 

She nodded again, and when he smiled widely at her it was like looking at the sun. “I thought that, perhaps, ah, you might know… you might know somewhere quiet that we could… we could walk and… and see…” 

Carlisle closed his book - no need to mark the page - and set it aside. He stood up and crossed to sit next to her, careful not to touch her. “That’s a very good idea. There’s a pretty park close to the hospital, and I shouldn’t think that it would be busy on a day like today. There are buildings nearby, though, where humans are aplenty. You’ll hear more than you’ll smell.” 

Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, Esme met Carlisle’s gaze. He trusted her. “Can we wait until Edward comes back? I would feel… better… if both of you came. Just in case.” 

“Of course. We’ll need the car to drive in, anyway. It’s too far to run in the rain.” 

“Thank you.” There was a sincerity to her words that hung in the room. Carlisle went to take her hand but she moved it out of his reach smoothly. There would be a great deal of temptation to resist today, better not test her control over a different desire entirely, and he only smiled again, looking down. 

A comfortable silence settled between them, and eventually he leaned back and mirrored her position in the window seat. Sitting with his legs folded and head leaning back against the glass, he spoke softly after a while. “Tell me something, Esme.” 

She smiled and closed her eyes. The patter of rain and crackle of the fire were so peaceful. “What would you like me to tell you?” 

“Anything.” 

“Did you know that the first passengers on a hot air balloon ride were a duck, a rooster, and a sheep?”

Carlisle laughed and it made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He ran a hand through his blond hair and rested it in the space between the two of them in the window seat. “I was thinking you could tell me something about _ you.” _

“But you said anything!” 

“Alright, tell me your favourite colour.” 

Esme smiled, her eyes still closed. “Blue. Tell me yours.” 

“Green. Where is your favourite place in the world?” 

Wherever you are. “Somewhere like this, but smaller. Small towns with rich forests and sloping mountains. What colour were your eyes when you were human”? 

“Blue.” 

When Esme’s eyes opened in surprise, he was looking at her. She returned his tender smile. “I can imagine it. You. Blue eyes, blushing cheeks. Did your skin turn dark in the sun?” 

Carlisle nodded. “My father’s father was a farmhand close to a city around sixty miles north of London, and his father and his father and so on and so forth. They all darkened in the summers, I suppose, but my father and I not so much. We kept to the city of London and our church, so we weren’t out in the sun very much at all.”

Esme saw in her mind Carlisle toiling in a field in a distant land, skin glistening and golden, his muscles rolling under his shirt. She saw him throw it aside and heave a hoe over his head and into the rich soil at his feet. She imagined herself standing in a doorway of a small farmhouse, a basket of eggs in her arms, and Carlisle striding up the garden path, dirty and sweaty and burning, pulling her against him and kissing her deeply. Blood rushing through both of them, and him lifting her onto the kitchen table and lifting her skirts to bury his head between her thighs. She swallowed thickly and brought herself back to reality. 

“Would you have preferred a simple farm life?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as even as possible, as if she hadn’t just envisioned him devouring her. 

Carlisle didn’t seem to have noticed her momentary distraction. He shook his head. “No. Life as a farm hand was difficult, it wasn’t like your father’s farm. My ancestors owned no land, and toiled to put food on their liege lord’s table before their own. Every day was a struggle and although it was a simple life, it was so hard. Life was very different back then.” 

“Is that why your father went into the church? To provide a better life?” 

Carlisle paused, mulling the question over. “Perhaps. But I think he felt he truly had a calling, too. Ministers were paid a good amount, enough that he could buy a fine house in the city and raise me with an education. I think the Church was one of the only ways to better one’s life back then. That, and trade in the city.”

“Would you ever return to ministry?” Esme could see how easily Carlisle could inspire a congregation, how many souls he could save. 

“No. Being what I am, I… I am not one who should preach to others of good and evil.” 

Esme smiled and squeezed his hand that rested between them. She let it go before he could weave their fingers together. “”You are good, you know.” 

“I try to be. But I don’t think I ever really believed that I was, not until Edward. I see such goodness in him, such control and desire to bring happiness and light, and I cannot believe that he is inherently bad. If his condition doesn’t make him bad, then how can mine make me bad?” 

Esme felt a surge of love for both of her men. Carlisle was absolutely right. “It makes me happy that you think like that. Sometimes it’s easy to think we’re bad, and it can take loving someone else to love oneself.” 

Carlisle met her gaze, something more serious in his expression. “Do you love yourself, Esme?” 

She smiled. “Not yet. But I’m learning to.” 

* * *

Edward was excited by the idea of going back into the city, and the car’s engine hadn’t even cooled down by the time the three of them clambered into it. Raincoats on and umbrellas at the ready, Edward and Carlisle were encouraged by Esme’s willingness to try to be among humans for the first time. She sat in the front seat as Edward drove, and he held her hand whenever he didn’t need to change gear. He and Carlisle were giving Esme somewhat of a pep talk, although she knew what to expect as, over the months, the sensations she should expect had been explained to her slowly. 

“Would you like me to listen to your thoughts?” Edward asked as they approached the city. Over the sound of rain and motorcars, Esme could begin to hear heartbeats. Dozens and dozens as buildings approached out of the gloom. The heat at the back of her throat flared at the wet pulsing, but she remained calm. 

“Yes please,” she replied, and gave his hand a squeeze.  _ Thank you for asking.  _

“The park that we’re going to runs alongside the river,” Carlisle said from the back seat. “If you need a quick escape, that would be the best way. As uncomfortable as it is, you can breathe in the water and have it fill your lungs. It’s very painful, but it’s so jarring it can pull you out of a hunting mindset.” 

Esme swallowed thickly. She was nervous. 

“You’ll be great, Esme, we’re just thinking about the worst case. Humans are unpredictable, and so it’s always good to have a backup plan.” Edward could hear her anxiety, and he always knew what to say to make her feel better. 

“Should the worst happen, what would you like us to do?” Carlisle asked. 

“Whatever it takes,” she confirmed. “Rip off my head, if you have to. I can’t be the reason for another funeral.” She felt Carlisle’s hand squeeze her shoulder, and she covered his hand with her own. 

“It won’t come to that,” Edward promised. “We’ll be either side of you at all times, and we’ll look after you.” 

Taking a deep breath, Esme nodded. “I trust you.” 

There was street parking close to the public park, and Edward snuck in between two cars without needing to even think about it. He parked on the right side of the road, allowing Esme to step directly onto the pavement. The rain was still pouring, but there was no wind, and it was comfortable. The world smelled so different in the city, wet pavement and wet steel cascading around them. No one was walking on the street, but the hum of human activity was in all the buildings around them. Carlisle got out of the car behind her and opened the umbrella, linking his arm through hers. Edward joined her on the other side and did the same. It was so safe to be between them. 

“This way,” Carlisle said, and they made off down the wide pavement to the iron gates of the park. 

The sound of so many thick heartbeats was so distracting, it made her queasy. It made her thirsty. Edward’s arm tightened through hers. 

“Tell me something to distract me,” she asked him quickly. 

“Of course,” Edward replied easily, his voice much gentler than his grip. She was glad for both. “I found some new music that I like the look of.” 

_ That’s far too boring, _ she thought without meaning to. Edward laughed loudly, and she felt ashamed. “I don’t mean that’s boring,” she said quickly, apologetically. “I’m sorry! I just… I’m so worried that I’ll be distracted.” 

“No need to apologise, Esme,” Edward replied good naturedly. “I know you’re interested, but that’s something we can talk about at a less tense time. Let me see, what would be more engaging?” 

On her other side, Carlisle squeezed her hand reassuringly. 

“Why don’t you tell me what transpired when I was out with the sisters?” Edward suggested. Esme whipped her head to look at him and he grinned cheekily. 

“Something else,” she protested. “Why don’t you tell me why you won’t go along with Tanya?” Her nerves were making her jumpy, and she had little on her mind except the sound of heartbeats all around her. The thick blood pumping just below the skin, how hot and rich it would flow across her tongue, how easily those bodies would mould to her as she held them close and drank- 

_ Esme!” _ “ Edward’s voice was quiet but sharp. “Don’t get lost in those thoughts. Alright, I’ll tell you about Tanya.” 

Esme took deep and slow breaths. She focused on what she could feel and see and smell. The hard pavement beneath her feet, grass on either side. Sheets of rain turning the world to grey. The rush of the river to their left. Edward’s scent, Carlisle’s, and their arms through hers holding her tight. Rain on the trees and grass. It smelled nice. Drops bouncing off the umbrellas above their heads, dripping to the floor. Another deep breath. She grounded herself in reality. 

“She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Esme said. 

“Very beautiful, yes,” Edward agreed. “But I know her thoughts. If I ever find someone with whom to share my life, I will be a gentleman. I will court her and get to know her, and propose and wed her, and abide by God’s will for marriage. I won’t commit any sin that could taint a union. All Tanya wants to do is commit said sin.” 

Esme laughed, and even Carlisle tried to hide his grin. Edward sounded so indignant. 

“Then why not do those things with Tanya?” Esme asked. 

“Because her thoughts have put me quite off,” Edward protested. 

_ Such a good Christian boy, _ Esme thought, amused. 

“Both of my fathers have instilled Christian values in me,” he argued in response to Esme’s accidental thought. “Although I know my father has attempted to reject said value recently.” 

Esme shoved into him lightly where they walked, unable to smack his arm with both of her hands otherwise occupied. “We’re talking about  _ you, _ my darling.” 

Edward snorted. “I think you are beginning to influence me with your own values, Esme. When one father looks to reject a value, you do whatever you can to uphold it. For what it’s worth, though, I don’t think you’re wrong. You’re still married, as awful and abhorrent that man-”

“Edward, please.” He had not meant to hurt them, only to tease, but the flash of childishness was beginning to make her feel trapped in a conversation she did not want to have. Certainly Carlisle would not want to discuss this, either. Not like this. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, catching the mood of her thoughts. “Carlisle, tell us more of Eleazar and what we can expect from him.” 

Esme squeezed his arm in thanks. This would be an equally engaging topic. 

Carlisle cleared his throat. “Eleazar formed part of the guard in my later years with the Volturi, and he was accepted as his talent for knowing the gift of others could be useful when they were enforcing the law. Covens can be hostile when the Volturi intervene and those with talents can pose a threat. I never saw Eleazar during a trial - it was rare that any accused party could be brought to Volterra - but I saw him during combat practice. He’s a very skilled fighter, although he didn’t seem to get any joy out of it like some of the others.”

As they walked through the park, a figure in the distance grew closer, walking towards them. Another park goer, with their own umbrella. Carlisle looked up and saw him, too. “That’s one of my colleagues from the hospital,” he said quickly. “Remember, we’re posing as siblings. He’s a good man, with a son and two granddaughters. He likes to paint in his spare time, like you, Esme.” 

Carlisle had told her before that it helped to resist humans when they were thought of as individuals, not just a food source, and so he was helping Esme to picture this man’s life. It did help. 

“I’ve met him a few times,” Edward added. “His thoughts are good. I like him.” 

Esme nodded. He was still a way off, giving her time to ground herself. The pavement beneath her feet. Grass on either side. Sheets of rain turning the world to grey. Her throat burned just from the anticipation of getting close to the man. Venom pooled in her mouth. 

“Esme,” Edward warned. 

“I know,” she replied sharply. She was trying. Fear and stress was trickling down her spine and her legs wanted to freeze, but she was determined not to let it take over. Further in the distance walked a couple, a man and a woman, their faces hidden behind the umbrella the man carried. Too far away to worry about. “Distract me.” 

“You can do this,” Carlisle murmured quietly. “You don’t need distraction. Breathe. Remember who you are, and who we are.” 

_ I am Esme Platt. At my side is Edward Masen, and Carlisle Cullen, and they are good men and my protectors. They are the loves of my life, and I will not let them down. They will not let me down. We treasure all human life; we do not kill for the sake of our own thirst. I am Esme Platt. I can do this.  _

“Tell me about the music you picked up,” Esme said to Edward. 

“You think that’s boring.” But he grinned, his tone teasing. “It’s a book of contemporary pieces, in a new style that’s come out of…” 

Esme drifted out of what he was saying, but it was a normal enough conversation that when the man approached them, nothing would be seen as suspicious. He was an older looking man, early sixties perhaps, with a bowler hat atop his round head. He looked to be shorter than Carlisle but taller than her, and there was a slight stoop at his shoulders. She could hear the  _ tap tap tap _ of his shoes on the path; his pace was brisk. From this distance, she could see the very slight movement at his throat where blood pumped through his body. It made her swallow thickly, but her vision was clear. The dark red that appeared at the corner of her eyes when she hunted was not there, and that was a good sign. 

_ I can do this.  _

Edward carried on talking, and Carlisle made a comment here and there, but Esme didn’t hear them. With every step of her own, she reminded herself that she could do this. Do it for Edward, do it for Carlisle, do it for the stranger. She was not put on this earth to be an angel of death. 

After what felt like a lifetime, yet no time at all, the man was close enough that he recognised Carlisle. 

“Ah, Doctor Cullen,” he called out as their paths brought them closer. By the time they stopped in front of each other, Esme could see the blood rushing under his skin. His heartbeat was strong, and his face was flushed from his walk. Her vision was clear, although her throat was aflame. Swallowing helped soothe the burn momentarily. “What a pleasant surprise.” 

“That it is,” Carlisle said warmly, and he shook the man’s hand in greeting. “Doctor Douglas, you remember my younger brother, Edward?” 

The two of them shook hands and Edward said a kind word of greeting. 

“And this is my sister, Esme,” Carlisle continued. He unlinked his arm from hers when the stranger held out his hand, and she hesitated for a split second. She wore gloves, and would not feel his skin, but- 

She could do this. 

With a happy smile, she took the man’s hand “Doctor Douglas, it’s a pleasure.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, madam,” the man replied after a moment. He had seemed struck speechless when she smiled. “Doctor Cullen never said he had such a beautiful sister.” 

“Siblings do not often remark on the beauty of each other, in my experience,” Esme answered, uncomfortable with the way the man had said it. What kind of brother would talk about a sister like that? It was meant kindly, surely, but she didn’t like it. Men were so odd. Hopefully the sisters would return soon. 

Behind the man, the couple drew slowly nearer through the rain. 

“What brings you here?” Carlisle asked, gently steering the conversation away from the nervous Esme. She had one arm still through Edward’s and he held her deceptively tight, and she clung onto his arm with both of hers. The man’s pulse seemed to get louder to her. 

“I wanted to clear my head before going into theatre later,” Doctor Douglas said with a sigh. “The men who were shot a few days ago, they’re not doing so well. We need to remove the leg of one of them.” 

Carlisle frowned sympathetically. “Yes, I’m aware. I made the recommendation, given the spread of infection that hasn’t responded to medication. How did he take the news?” 

“Oh, of course, of course. I remember seeing your name on the documents. Well, what can I say? No man wants to lose a piece of him like that. He served on the Front, and came back without injury, yet it’s on the streets of his own city that he suffers this.” The doctor sighed. 

“Have the police found any leads?” Carlisle asked. 

The man shook his head. “Not that I know of. I think they know more than they’re letting on, though.” 

Esme drifted out of the conversation again. The mention of the Front had thrown her off. Carlisle and Edward didn’t talk about the war around her. They knew not to, after she had briefly told them how  _ he _ had returned and it had been… worse. Any mention of it was jarring. 

The pressure on her arm told her that Edward was hearing her thoughts and he couldn’t offer any words of comfort but he was here, and that was all that mattered. “You’re doing great,” he whispered so quietly and quickly that the man Carlisle spoke with wouldn’t have noticed. 

_ Thank you, _ she thought. 

The couple was close enough that they would have been able to see the group’s faces if their umbrella wasn’t pulled down over their gaze to protect them from the rain. Blinking, Esme realised that the conversation between the man and Carlisle was coming to an end, something about the doctor running an errand before returning to the hospital. She sighed deeply, a lightness sweeping over her.  _ I did it!  _

“Well, I shall see you soon,” the doctor said to Carlisle, before looking back at Edward and Esme. “Mister Cullen, it was a pleasure. And I hope to see you again soon, Miss Esme.” 

She didn’t like the way he said her name, and apparently neither did the man who passed them by at that moment with the woman at his side. Their umbrella jerked up, revealing his face, and Esme turned instinctively to look at him. Golden eyes met pale grey, and the sound of a skipping heart filled the ears of the vampires. 

“Esme?” 

The couple had come to a stop level with the doctor, who bid his farewell at the arrival of the newcomer. He walked the way that the three of them had come, and did not look back. 

Edward’s lips pulled back over his teeth and Esme felt him turn to ice. He turned his body to shield her from whatever thoughts filled the head of this young man. Carlisle kept close at her back, confused but instinctive in his protection of the woman he loved. 

Esme was beyond words, beyond fright. 

The man took a step forward, and the woman at his side shadowed him. Something in Edward’s face made him freeze, but then, turning his gaze back to Esme, a sick smile appeared there. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

It was the voice she heard in her waking nightmares. It was the face she had run from, the soul the Devil had sent to ruin her. Perhaps He had sent him back to finish the job. 

_ Charles.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again so much for those who have supported this fic with comments and kudos! Thank you in particular to heeeymackelena for your regular comments, they do be giving me LIFE!


	12. Fight or Flight, Sink or Swim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, I will definitely do a time jump as I'm finding the subject matter more intense than I intended it to be, and I want to go to a happier, fluffier time. I feel bad for Edward in this chapter and I'm trying to walk the line between him being a well raised, polite young man vs still being physically 17 cause like... I remember what it's like to be 17. He's not a mature vampire or a mature human, and he is allowed his own outbursts. Also remember at the end of New Moon when the family decides that Bella should be a vampire, and he lost his shit? That's what I'm trying to channel. 
> 
> Not proof read, any spelling/grammatical errors or cringe writing style or plot just add to the *spice*.
> 
> Please note that this chapter has significant mentions of previous abuse and rape.

Instinct was a funny thing. One psychologist theorised that, when under extreme stress, a living creature would respond either by fighting or flying to either overcome a threat, or escape it entirely. In a different life, Esme had chosen flight. That was all she could do to protect herself and her unborn child when she had no tools at her disposal to fight. Now, she had teeth sharper than knives. Arms stronger than a vice. She could run faster and further than this threat could ever see, and never worry about being caught. 

Her arm was still through Edward’s as he twisted away from her to better face the man who had called her name. Carlisle stood at her back, tense. 

It took only half a second for fear to wash over her and paralyse her. Venom rushed through her like adrenaline and her body froze, waiting for the mind to choose - fight or flight. 

There was a third option, though. She could simply… ignore it. 

It was so easy. Even a smile crept across her face. “I beg your pardon, sir, but have we met?” 

Her husband’s eyes narrowed slightly but his grin did not fade. Edward’s stance was tight between them, every muscle poised to move into action. Charles glanced at him again but he didn’t seem to take in the danger he was in. When he took a step closer, Esme did what she had never before had the strength to do - she held her ground. 

“Esme Evenson,” he said. He was savouring the moment, so sure in what he was saying; smug. “I’d know you anywhere.” 

Esme feigned confusion. She wanted this man to die. “No, sir, that’s not my name,” she answered sweetly. “I think you must be mistaken.”

The woman at his side looked fearful. “Charles, come on, let’s-”

He threw a hard glance at her and she fell silent. Esme knew that look.  _ Kill him.  _

“You think you can lie to me, Esme Evenson?” he asked, turning back to her. There was suspicion in his eyes now. 

“Esme Masen, sir,” she lied. He would not know their family’s name. “And these are my brothers, Edward and Anthony. Might I know yours? I apologise if we have met before, it must have slipped my mind.” She would not give him Carlisle’s name. A name too distinctive, too easy to find. The stress she felt made her want to cry. If she were still human, she would be crying already. Perhaps out of control of her breathing, too. She remembered one occasion when her breathing would not come steadily and it had come and gone from her too fast, and she had lost feeling in her fingers, her toes, her lips. She had collapsed then, the stress was too much. This body of stone would not grant her any such relief; she would just have to endure it. 

Charles shook his head. “No, I know who you are-”

“She’s already told you,” Edward interrupted fiercely. “We do not know you.” 

“They said you were dead,” Charles carried on as if Edward was not there. He didn’t look at him - perhaps that was the problem. If he had looked up at him, he would have died of fright. Esme would have. Edward had never looked so terrible, so beautiful. He pulled his arm free of Esme to shield her behind him better. “That cousin of yours told everyone you died falling from a cliff. Did you jump, Esme? Did you take the coward’s way out? What did you do with my baby, you stupid, fucking-”

Carlisle had his arm around Esme’s shoulders and he guided her away. Without him, she would have been frozen on the spot. She followed where he led, and they walked swiftly up the winding path in the park. He still held the umbrella above them and the rain continued to fall, making a soft  _ pitter patter  _ over their heads. Edward walked behind them, keeping a barrier between themselves and Charles. 

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me, you worthless little-”

He was cut off with a gurgle, and Esme whipped around to see Edward’s umbrella forgotten on the ground, his hand now wrapped around Charles’ throat. The woman at his side stumbled back, and she looked around frantically as if looking for a safe way out. Esme locked eyes with her and nodded her head slightly. Going behind Charles’ back, she crept closer to the safety Esme and Carlisle offered under their umbrella. 

“Edward-!” Esme protested, her voice strained. He held up a hand to silence her. 

Edward’s face was inches from Charles’. “She is not who you are looking for. Whoever you think she is, she is not. You will not think of her again. So much as  _ think _ about her, and I’ll send you back to whatever pit of Hell you crawled out from.” 

Charles clutched at Edward’s forearm as Edward squeezed life from him. He began to turn purple in the face, and Edward dropped him. He collapsed to the floor. His hat fell off his head and the rain dripped into his hair. Edward turned back to Esme, his expression so terrifying it made her flinch. She could muster only one thought.  _ I hate him. _

Once again, she found it so easy to ignore it, though. Her good manners and kind disposition took over, and as they walked away, Esme realised how frightened this woman looked. She also smelled wonderful. Her heartbeat was racing, blood coursing through her veins quickly just below the surface of her soft skin. Esme felt her bottom lip come between her teeth and she bit down in an attempt to distract herself. The woman was so pretty, her skin so smooth. It would take so little to sweep aside her dark hair and press her lips against her throat. A sweet kiss, teeth sinking into flesh like butter- 

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Carlisle asked the woman who now walked with them. There had been no question that she should come with them instead of staying with Charles. Esme didn’t pay him a second glance, although it took all of her willpower. 

“Yes, thank you,” she answered. She had a pretty accent. Dutch, maybe. “Thank you, for, ah…” 

She trailed off and glanced at Esme. Esme glanced only briefly at the pulse she could see at the woman’s throat, and looked instead at her eyes. Blue eyes. Carlisle had blue eyes as a human. “What’s your name, dear?” 

“Maud.” 

“I’m Esme. Do you know that man well?” 

Maud shook her head. “No, he, ah… I was to be his companion for a few days while he was in the city.” 

_ A prostitute. Poor girl. Rich girl, perhaps, but poor girl to pick him up. _ “He seems unwell, perhaps it’s best that-” 

“Please,” she interrupted. “I am sure you are very kind. But I only want to get to the main street and then I will be out of your way.” 

“Of course,” Carlisle said kindly. “We make no judgement on you.”

Esme glanced at him, wondering if he realised how patronising he sounded. 

“Please, Maud, I mean no offence.” Esme’s voice was softer now, more hesitant. She wanted to know more of why he was here, but she was scared to know, too. “Who is that man?”

The prostitute held her silence for a moment while they walked. Esme had to keep her gaze busy to avoid letting the burn in her throat overwhelm her. She smelled clean, not like the bitter stench that rolled off Charles. The river to their left rolled lazily along, and the trees rustled in the breeze. Rain, rain everywhere. Maud did eventually speak. “I don’t know. He comes from America. I think he’s running from something. He said he was moving on in a few days.”

“Does he frighten you?” 

“She didn’t answer but her jaw tightened.

Esme walked between Carlisle and Maud, and Edward followed them in stony silence. It was a quick pace for humans, but they were still some way off from the entrance to the park. It was as far away now as the different entrance they had used. The hospital Carlisle worked at loomed through the gloom, looking out over the park. There was no sound behind them that indicated Charles was following them. They could still hear his heartbeat, although it was growing more distant. Esme guessed that he was going in the other direction to them.

“Did he hurt you?” Carlisle asked. 

The woman did not answer. 

“He’s a doctor,” Esme explained softly. “He only asks to try to help.” 

“No more than others,” she dismissed. “Hazard of the job.” 

“It shouldn’t be.” There had been a time when employment was difficult to come by, and Esme had had to consider such employment. Although it had never come to it, Esme knew she was one of the lucky ones. Not like it saved her from much, though. “Do you know who he mistook me for?” 

Maud sighed. “No, I don’t.” She glanced behind at Edward, and shivered. She was frightened of him, and it was no surprise. Esme was frightened by his expression, too. 

She was frightened of everything. As always, she hid it well. The group walked in an uncomfortable silence, as quick as humans could go, and when they finally reached the gates where the park met the street, Esme took in a deep breath. Maud’s scent filled her throat, her wet heartbeat ringing loud and clear. She swallowed her venom and tried to ignore the fire that spread through her. There were more humans on this street. There was no route to escape. Why had they come here? Why hadn’t she run? 

Edward’s hand was on her back and she flinched away. The woman looked at her and Esme swallowed again. “I’m sorry-” she began, but she didn’t know what else to say. On the road, cars sped past, and the foot traffic closer to the hotel entrance was busier than then had expected it to be. There were no crowds, but there were enough people close by that it felt like drowning. She was losing her control. She had to get out of here. The composure that had encased her to get out of the situation was now cracking. 

Carlisle reached into his jacket pocket and discreetly passed the woman a bank note. “For your trouble,” he murmured quietly. “And discretion.” 

The woman nodded stiffly and Edward gave her his umbrella. She took it and left without looking back. In the back of her mind, Esme was glad they had met her. Even if she had been his company for a few days, she deserved better than him. He was still cruel, she proved, he was still a monster. And for as long as he lived, there would be women who would suffer at his hand. How easy it would be to kill him, how much better the world would be without him in it. How much lighter her own heart would be. But she would not be a killer again. Even if she made an exception for Charles, that would be a weight that she would carry in her heart until the breaking of the world. That was not a punishment she could bear. 

But her predominant thought was that she needed to get out of here. The heartbeats, the smell of blood in dozens of bodies, her overwhelming desire to fly, was too much. Behind her, Edward touched her again as he heard her distress. 

“The river,” he reminded her. This involved going back into the park, just inside the gates. The three of them went, and behind the park wall there was no one to see them. They flitted quickly to the rushing waters of the Bow River and sank beneath the surface. Swimming northwest would take them out of the city quicker, and bring them closer to home, but it also meant the idea of swimming back towards the man she was trying to escape. She would rather brave the waters of the city than brave that. 

Carlisle swam at her side and there was safety in that. Edward was further back, and the two of them let her lead. The bottom of the river was soft and the current brought up silt and sand and made the waters murky. It was a benefit, it hid them. The harder she swam and the more distance put between him and her, the more the fear of losing control faded. Perhaps it really did just come down to fight or flight. Following the river turned them directly south. The metropolis, still in its infancy, sprawled across the land and just seemed to keep going and going even though Esme swam as quickly as she could and she wanted to scream. Water kept going up her nose and it pained her, just like Carlisle had warned it would, but as he also promised, it distracted her. Everything was so much all the time. 

After what felt like hours - although it was only minutes - the river turned east in a sign that they had left the city far behind. She brought herself to a stop in the water, and Carlisle and Edward joined her, all hidden below the surface. She looked at Carlisle in the gloom and he drifted close to her. Unable to stop herself, she pulled him to her and wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him as her rope dragging her to safety. It was a relief to close her eyes against the muddy waters of the river, and there was something about being blind in the water, being held by Carlisle, that felt so incredibly peaceful. All sounds were muffled here, all smells gone. Maybe they could build a home under the waves, the only place it felt safe. 

Carlisle held her tightly and swam the short distance to the surface. Rain greeted them when their heads came up, and the sounds of the world exploded when water drained from her ears. Trees, wind, rain, the screech of a locomotive in the distance. Compared to the city, it was quiet. Esme let Carlisle go. On the southern bank Edward was already standing and looking around, checking the area with his gift to ensure they were alone. With whatever he heard, he seemed satisfied, and as Esme came to the edge of the river, he held out his hand to help her clamber up the muddy bank. The short swim had calmed him down, too, and he didn’t look half as scary as before. 

“Come here,” he murmured. She went into his wet, open arms, and let his comfort envelope her. 

After taking in a breath through her nose, she heard a laugh escape her. “You don’t smell like yourself.”

Edward broke the embrace and rested his hand on her wet hair. “Neither do you. You smell like a dock.” 

She laughed quietly. If she had been human, she would have wept. Carlisle was at her side again, and the two men exchanged a silent thought. It was not to be rude, it was never to be rude, but it was a habit for them, and Esme tried not to resent it. She trusted them to tell her anything of importance. 

“You did so well,” Carlisle said as they walked slowly from the edge of the river and into a nearby stretch of trees. If all had gone to plan, she would have glowed under the praise. 

“I wanted to kill two people today,” she replied in an even voice. She bent over and began squeezing dirty water from her skirt. Such a shame, she liked this one. It wouldn’t take long to get clean, but the smell would linger for a number of washes. “She smelled very nice.” 

“I will kill him.” Edward’s voice was hard. 

Esme didn’t even look up. “No you won’t. You’ve never killed anyone and you won’t start for him.” 

“I will.” 

“No!” Esme’s voice was a sudden shout. She hadn’t shouted at anyone since she was a child. Her hand clamped over her mouth.  _ I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, Edward, I’m s- _

“Don’t apologise, it’s alright,” Edward answered, gentler this time. He took her hand from her mouth and kissed the back of it. “I saw it, Esme. I saw it all.” 

Hesitantly, she pulled her hand from his and took a step closer to Carlisle instinctively. His hand went to the small of her back in comfort, and they leaned closer together. 

“What did you see?” she asked softly. If he knew her secrets now, after over a year of carefully guarding them, she would rather know what information he was privy to. It would be easier for him to tell Carlisle, too, as she couldn’t yet find the words. 

“Esme, I-”

“Please tell me what you know, Edward.”

He swallowed and nodded. “I saw how good it made him feel to… hurt you. Shout at you. How satisfied he was when he frightened you and… and forced you to… to… to bear his children. He was excited when he saw you and he wanted to beat you like before. There was so much, Esme, so many times he remembered hurting and ra-”

“Stop it.” Carlisle’s voice was strained. Esme looked up at him and his face was twisted in agony. Esme briefly imagined herself in his position, how it would feel if she was learning of the pain he had suffered at another person’s hand. It was ghastly. If anyone hurt him like that, she would not hesitate to annihilate them. She would perhaps even relish in the violence and torture. She would not take Charles’ life for her own revenge, but she would if it had been Carlisle that he had hurt. By God, it was so much easier to love him than it was to love herself. 

“What else?” Esme pressed. 

“Esme, please,” Carlisle begged quietly. “Don’t make me listen to it like this. I would hear your story in your own words, not through the memories of the man who hurt you.” 

“Hurt?” Esme breathed. “He destroyed me.”  _ But with you I was reborn.  _

“I’ll kill him,” Edward said again. 

“We both will,” Carlisle agreed. “He cannot live.” 

“No,” Esme protested. She grabbed Carlisle’s hand and then Edward’s, standing between the two men she loved. “Please. That would only bring me more pain. When he dies, from whatever the heavens decide, then I will be free. But if you intercede in God’s plan, I will carry that with me forever. Please don’t do that to me.” 

Edward squeezed her hand. “He has hurt other women, Esme. For as long as he lives, others will be in pain. Would you condemn others to your fate?” 

“Edward, that’s not fair,” Carlisle said sharply. “No matter what we decide, the man’s actions and the suffering he causes cannot be attributed to Esme.” 

“But if we have the power to kill him-” 

“Anyone with enough determination has the power to kill him, we’re not unique in that.” 

“But we were born to do this!” 

Esme looked up at Edward cautiously. “What do you mean?” 

He looked between the two of them and sighed as if he regretted what he had said. “I just… our natural food source is humans. What if I was given this gift to make the world a better place? So I can truly determine who deserves to live and who decides to die?” 

Esme rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. 

“We will discuss this at a more appropriate time,” Carlisle answered, an unusual impatience in his tone. “For now we discuss one man only.” 

“Will you ignore my will?” Esme asked. 

Any negativity in his tone melted away when he looked down at her, and his hand ran gently up and down her back. After a pause, he sighed. “No. No, I won’t. And neither will Edward.” 

With a hiss, Edward began pacing and his hands were in fists at his side. His face grew harder as he got lost in his thoughts, and suddenly he whirled to face Carlisle, fury in his eyes. Instinctively, Carlisle pushed Esme behind him and raised his chin calmly to his son. 

Edward’s voice was frightening when he shouted. “You didn’t see what I saw! You didn’t have to watch as he beat her and broke her! He broke her bones, Carlisle, and he tore her and raped her for years!  _ Years! _ And when she cried, he _ laughed!  _ When she begged him to stop, he gagged her, and he told her that she was worthless! And you know what is worse, Carlisle? She believed him! And part of her still does! I had to watch that man rape her-” 

Esme was too frightened to beg him to stop. She heard her dry sobs before she felt them. Her chest hurt as they wracked her and her eyes stung when tears were unable to come. Her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to hold herself together. _Fuck Edward._ Fuck _Edward._ She hadn’t indulged in allowing the memories to come back, blurry and distant though they were, and she had been all the better for it. And now he shouted them in her face. 

“That’s  _ enough.” _ Something in Carlisle’s tone halted Edward in his tracks. 

Then his arms were around her, his hand on her head, and she closed her eyes, crying into his shoulder. 

_ Go, _ was all she could think to Edward.  _ Please don’t hate me for not wanting him dead.  _

Her worded thoughts lied, though, and surely he could see through them. Deep down, in the core of her heart, she wanted nothing more than Charles Evenson dead. But the strength and comfort of Carlisle’s arms reminded her of something else, something she wanted more. She wanted him. She wanted to be good. Charles threatened to swallow her with darkness, but Carlisle was the light. So long as she clung to him and all that he stood for, there was hope for a brighter life. 

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and after a while, her sobs subsided. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again (and again and again and again!) for all your lovely comments and kudos, it is deeply appreciated <3


	13. To Love and Be Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm really trying to channel some of that energy that was see from Bella as a newborn in BD, where emotions are always high and bouncing around and are just So Much at All Times. Esme is only just over a year old and still pretty uhhhh hormonal like idk a new adult is when they're just out of teen years? Like it's not like all of that imbalance stuff just goes away. I'm not sure if that comes across, or if it's just.... inconsistent and bad writing that is hard to follow.
> 
> Then on the other side we have Carlisle who is physically only 23 and experiencing love for the first time and he loves this newborn and that's very unsettling (kinda predatory when you think about it like Carlisle that's mad sexy but also mad sus what are you doing with your life). So Esme is depressed and anxious and horny and Carlisle is just like idk how to begin dealing with it but damn Esme ur bobbies?
> 
> Also after a very long and stressful period, my office has been closed permanently and I am officially out of work. I'm not sure if this will impact how often I update, but if there is a decline in quality or it gets very sad, idk what to say like. I'm sorry :( I keep on trying to drag this back to a happier place but I'm struggling to do that! Idk let me know in the comments if you don't care about the Denali coven coming back and maybe I'll just do a huge ass time jump? Rn I'm on the fence about it and feel like after 50k words maybe I should just go to the wedding sghfjdkghjfkd please let me know!

The following days were tense. It was a stark contrast to their usually happy home, and none of the occupants were happy about it. Edward was unusually quiet when he was around, but he spent much of his time in the city or the forests surrounding the house anyway, and it only made Esme more anxious. She had grown so used to having company in her own thoughts that it was very lonely knowing he was gone. Over the past year, as their relationship had strengthened, Edward had learned what she needed quicker than even she knew, and when her memories crept through the gloom, he came and helped keep the darkness at bay. The silence of his absence was deafening. 

“Have I pushed him away?” Esme asked quietly on the second night after they had been to the park. 

Carlisle looked up from the evening paper with a concerned expression. “What makes you ask that?” 

She fiddled with the screw on the embroidery hoop in her hands. “I’ve not seen him like this. He’s… it feels like he’s angry with me.” 

“I don’t think he is, Esme.” 

“Are you sure?” 

The paper crinkled softly as Carlisle closed it and folded it and set it on the small table next to his armchair. He often did this when he wanted to show her that she had his full attention. A small gesture, but it carried great weight. “Yes. He’s been like this before.” 

Esme bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head to the side in question. 

Carlisle smiled, but it was closer to a wince. “Do you remember when I told you about Siobhan, my friend from Ireland?”

“She has the young girl as her companion, Maggie?” Esme checked to make sure she had not mixed up stories of Carlisle’s friends. 

He nodded. “The same. Our paths crossed a few years ago and it was the first time that Edward had been exposed to other vampires. Siobhan, of course, does not live like us. She and her companions are nomaid and feed on humans. I admit that… I had not been completely honest with Edward up until this point about our way of life.” 

“Oh?” 

“I didn’t explain completely that there were those who happily lived on the blood of humans. I should have done, but…” He smiled weakly. 

“It’s understandable,” Esme reassured him in a soft voice. “You didn’t want to lose him.” 

Carlisle nodded again, and for a moment he looked ashamed. “It was selfish of me, and in the long run perhaps it was the wrong thing to do. After our encounter, I think Edward resented that I hadn’t told him that there was another way. He probably saw right through me. For a few weeks he spent more time alone and avoided me, but after a cooling-off period, things got back to normal.” 

The fabric stretched across the hoop was soft. Esme hadn’t embroidered since she was a girl and even then it was only for a short time, she didn’t have the patience for it. Now she had the dexterity and imagination for it, but so many times her hand had moved quicker than her thread could keep up. It took longer to unravel the knots than it did to do anything else. She touched the hues of white and red and brown threads that made up half the image of an apple and watched her hard skin press against the soft image. “Did you ever talk about it openly? Afterward, I mean.” 

“No. I regret that, but it happened long ago enough that I don’t think talking about it now would help.” 

“Do you think it’s connected to what happened?” 

There was a long pause. Esme dared to glance up at him and she didn’t like to see the lines between his eyebrows when he frowned. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing would come out. He swallowed and tried again. “He said something that frightened me. About being given his gift so he could determine who lives and who dies. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“You don’t?” Esme asked. She gave him a look that said _I do._

“What if he chooses the wrong path?” Carlisle asked quietly. “What if he leaves?” 

She shook her head. It was hard to imagine Edward leaving Carlisle for any reason. They were so tightly bound, closer than father and son, closer than companions. They could not be without the other, and they could not be without her, either. Not anymore. While they had helped her find her way back to her soul, she had helped them find their way back to their hearts. “He won’t.”

“What if he ignores your wishes?” Carlisle looked like he regretted asking the question the moment it echoed around the room. “I’m sorry, he wouldn’t-”

“Can I say something terrible?” 

“You can say whatever you would like.” There was such gentleness in Carlisle’s voice, such honesty. 

“I’m afraid to say it outloud. I think saying it outloud will make it too real.” 

“Would you like to write it down?” 

Esme smiled slightly as his instinct to help her in whatever way he could. “No. Just…” She got up from the window seat and turned her back on him. There was a squeak of leather as he made to join her. “No- please. Please stay there. I just… please don’t look at me while I say it.” 

“Of course.” Leather creaked as he sat back down. 

There was a long moment of silence while Esme composed herself. The rains of the past few days had cleared and it was sunny again. Since their encounter in the park, Carlisle had not gone to the hospital. It was silent worry between them that Charles would come looking for her. Her mind had not yet caught up with her body and it refused to acknowledge that physically she was safe from him. The physical threat he posed was only part of it, though. It couldn’t keep her mind safe. “Part of me hopes that Edward ignores what I said. I want him dead, Carlisle. I want him dead so much that it frightens me.” 

The words bounced off the walls and floor and she heard them as if someone else had said them. Shocking words of condemnation, proof that she was a monster. What a selfish thing to want, to sentence someone to die and refuse to carry out the execution. How ghastly, how cowardly- 

“It frightens you?” 

“Yes.” The word came from her as a sigh as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s evil.” 

“An evil thought for an evil man.” 

Esme winced at Carlisle’s response. So he _did_ think it was evil after all. How loathsome. He got up from his chair again and came to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulder. When she felt him lean down as if to kiss her cheek, she pulled away. 

“It is not an evil thought,” Carlisle told her when she could not bring herself to look at him. “You don’t say it because you relish the act, but because you wish to live in a world without him because such a world would be a better place.” 

Suddenly the room felt very cold. Esme crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself, keeping herself together. The further across the room she walked, the tighter her heart felt. The golden thread wanted to pull her back to him. “You’re wrong. I would relish the act. I did not _deserve_ him.” 

“No, you did not.” 

“I deserved _better.”_ Her voice shook but did not break. 

“You did.” 

At the far end of the room, Esme whipped around to face Carlisle. “I deserved you. All along, I deserved you. I am a _good person,_ I didn’t deserve what he did to me. I always did my best to be kind and true and I always deserved that in return!” 

He looked sad, and he looked angry. She straightened up slightly, embarrassed by her outburst. There was no claim she had over Carlisle, and it was a slip of the tongue to bring him into this. 

“If I had known what you were to suffer, I would have stayed in Columbus.” 

Esme closed her eyes and shook her head. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have spoken like that.” 

“But you’re right,” he reassured her. He sat down on her seat in the east-facing window and held out his hand to call her to him. She did not go and kept her back against the western wall. “You didn’t deserve it.” 

“I’m starting to believe that.” 

“What has changed your mind?” he asked. It was not an ill-intended question; after all, he had seen her own self-loathing and self-doubt, her resignation in the belief that she was worthless and deserving of all of her sorrows. But he had also seen that slowly begin to fade these past few months. Even with the incident that killed a boy and his father, she was coming around. 

“There is a universe of ideas that I have never before been exposed to,” she answered hesitantly. “Thousands of years of philosophy have awakened something in me and I… I feel a part of the world in a way that I never have before. I feel more _real_ than ever before. And I am shown love every day by the two most wonderful people that I have ever known. You know most of all how that can change a person.” 

Carlisle smiled faintly. He had told Esme of how his life had been forever altered when Edward came into it. Like the world had been a dark and foggy place, and then suddenly into it came the stars, turning it to magic. Then Esme came, and with her she brought the sun. 

“You are worthy of that love.” 

“I want to be.” Esme rested her hands behind her back and leaned against the wall. She felt very small under his gaze. “I want that more than anything. I want that more than life and death.” 

“More than _his_ death?” 

She nodded. Her next words were a whisper. “But I want that so badly too.” 

“Do you think it’s terrible that I agree with you?” 

A strand of hair fell from where it was pinned up as she nodded her head again. “Yes. It’s terrible that you have been made to hate. I’m so sorry for that.”

There was a smile on Carlisle’s face now but it was so pained that Esme couldn’t look anymore. “You think it’s your fault?” 

“If you had never met me, you never would have been given cause to hate him. And you only know of my side, you don’t know his mind; perhaps sometimes I _did_ deserve it, perhaps I wasn’t understanding enough or-”

“Oh, God, Esme.” He was across the room in a flash and his broad hands gently held her upper arms. She looked up at him with remorse in her wide eyes but there was no fear. “You didn’t deserve what he did to you. You just said that yourself.” 

“I’m starting to believe it,” she echoed quietly. “Now and again. But I’m frightened that I’ll never believe it wholly.” 

“I hate him for what he did to you.” 

_“Don’t._ Please. Don’t give into that, you are so much better than that.” 

“No, I’m not. Not with this, not with him. Do you know how much I wanted to protect you from him in that park? How hard I had to resist laying a hand on him?” 

Part of her was distressed. Part of her was thrilled. Hadn’t she always dreamed of a kind and handsome man coming along to save her from the dragon? And here he was, the very man from her wildest fantasies proclaiming his desire to slay the beast? But he was no fantasy, and Charles was no dragon. They were flesh and bone and heart and soul, both of them, and this was so real. This was so frighteningly real. 

“But you resisted.” 

“Barely. I blame myself in part for Edward’s reaction. He had my thoughts to deal with as well as his own, and I think it shocked him as much as it did me.” 

“You abhor violence of any kind. There could not have been much to shock him.” 

Carlisle searched her eyes, looking for doubt or jest, a sign that she was willingly misunderstanding him. “We spoke of him only a day before we saw him. I told you then that I wanted to kill him. And it wasn’t even for you, because I know you would never ask that of me. It’s for me that I want him dead. I want him to suffer. I want to inflict agony on him in revenge for-”

“Stop.” She couldn’t listen to his pain like this because her own was too much to bear. “I’m not… I’m not ready.” 

“Forgive me.” 

She nodded, and he rested their foreheads together gently. She pulled away again before he could kiss her. 

“What do we do about Edward?” she asked. That was the purpose of this conversation, or at least it was supposed to be. 

Carlisle sighed. “I think we give him time.” 

“I wish we could. But the sisters will be back soon.” 

“The sisters will be back soon.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Esme mused quietly. “Not much happens in a year, and then everything happens at once.” 

Carlisle smiled sadly. “That’s often how it goes, my love.” 

Esme blinked at the affectionate words. She didn’t know how they made her feel. Strange. Guilt had always been intertwined with how hard she loved him and now it was worse than ever. She wanted to be good and she wanted to be kind but there was so much anger inside of her that Esme didn’t know what to do with. If the incident in the park told her anything, it was that she was still not in control of her emotions. If Carlisle had not been there to lead her away from her husband she probably would still have stood frozen on the spot days later. Suddenly she felt very out of control and she wanted to weep again. It turned her to stone. 

Carlisle saw the sudden change in her and reached out a hand to touch her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“Please stop apologising!” she said sharply. The change in tone frightened her. It was terrifying to feel so out of control again and she hated it. She hated the hesitation in Carlisle’s eyes, too. “I’m sorry, I just-! You have nothing to apologise for. You’re perfect.” 

Carlisle leaned against the lounge wall and held her gaze. “No I’m not. I’m as flawed as anyone else.” 

There was a long silence between them now and it was unusually uneasy. While Esme couldn’t bring her gaze to Carlisle, Carlisle could not tear his from her. When it was clear she was frozen in place and could not speak first, he broke the silence. 

“What’s wrong, Esme?” he murmured. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” 

Fright threatened to close her throat but she fought it. “I’m frightened.” 

“Of what?” 

Her eyes were wide, searching the room and seeing nothing. “I feel so out of control. Unhinged. I don’t… I don’t know how to feel but I feel everything and I don’t know how to stop.” 

Carlisle nodded. “It’s not wrong to feel like this.” 

“Do you promise?” Esme asked, her voice getting higher. 

“I promise. It’s okay for you to feel this way, and it’s understandable. You’ve been through so much, it’s brave of you to even talk about how this is making you feel.” 

“Carlisle?” 

“Yes?” 

She still couldn’t look at him and she swallowed. It was easier to close her eyes again. The darkness was safe. “I’m afraid of losing you. And Edward.” 

There was a small silence while he considered his answer. “What makes you think that you will?” 

“I.. I don’t bring you joy. I’ve brought you pain and discomfort and inconvenience.” 

She could hear his footsteps slow on the wooden floorboards and she could feel the air about her shift when he came closer. Gentle hands cupped her face and brought it to tilt up. There were butterflies in her stomach when she finally opened her eyes and was met with his soft gaze. Esme clutched at his forearms for support and she leaned into his touch. 

“You’ve brought me more happiness in this past year than I have known for centuries. I asked you many months ago not to bear your pain alone and let me carry it with you, and I meant it. Always. It’s you and I, Esme, that’s how it is now.” 

The intense rush of emotions that swirled around her body began to calm. She nodded slowly. She turned her head to kiss his palm and his lips parted when he saw her mouth touch his skin. 

“You and I?” she repeated, her lips still at his palm and she kissed him there again, and again. 

Carlisle swallowed thickly. He had never known the touch of a woman, not even like this. Every one of her touches inflamed him body and soul. “Always.” 

When she looked back at his face, Esme saw the change in his eyes. They were darker and she saw his parted lips. There was desire in him, despite the weight of their conversation. She wasn’t in control of herself right now and it was a great temptation to look at him and not ignite him further. What little space remained between their bodies was closed. Hadn’t she been the one to refuse his advances when he had yearned to share their love? Hadn’t it been her who had told him to wait until they could be wed? And for why? Who cared? Didn’t God love his children and celebrate their love? Wasn’t that the purpose of life anyway, to love and be loved? 

Esme took the hands at her face and guided them down her neck, her chest, to her waist. He had blinked when his palms traced the swell of her breasts and he made to say something but she shook her head. When his broad hand slid to the small of her back and pressed there her eyelids fluttered. Two steps pushed him between her and the wall and she pressed against him completely. Already she could feel his body responding to her and it made her mind cloudy. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Esme leaned up and kissed his neck and Carlisle let out a low breath. His hands held her tighter, his head rolled to the side to give her more room. When she licked up the shell of his ear, Carlisle whispered her name. The slightest touch and he was hers. 

“I want you,” he breathed. “Make love to me.” 

If he hadn’t said those words, something else would have stopped her in her tracks, anway. Sooner or later, she would have stopped. With sorrow in her heart, she leaned back in his arms. Against her stomach she could feel his need and although it made her mouth water, it was wrong. She wanted to be his wife, not his mistress. The change in her expression was obvious. 

“I- I’m sorry,” Carlisle stammered. “Did I- shouldn’t I have-?” 

She stroked his cheek gently. “No, I’m sorry. I promised not to overstep the boundary I set. But I did.” 

He looked confused. “I-?”

“Your wife,” she said, kindness slowly returning to her. “If what happens next doesn’t change your love for me, I would love you if you were to make me your wife.” 

“What happens next?” 

She smiled but it was strained. “I have a husband and I don’t know what will happen. I want him dead but I don’t want him killed. I want him gone but don’t know how to make that happen without damning at least one of us under this roof.” 

“Whatever happens, I promise it won’t change how I feel.” 

Esme licked her lips nervously. “Please don’t make a promise when the future is so uncertain. But… but I know how I feel too. And if I can find my way back to happiness and peace then I… I will be worthy of you.” 

“It’s not about ‘worth’, Esme. It’s just us. My heart is yours. I want _every_ part of me to be yours.” 

She rested her hand on his chest, over his heart. Invisible, the golden thread between their ribs tightened. “It might be yet. But there is life and death between then and now.” 

Carlisle breathed out heavily and it almost sounded like a laugh. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.” 

“What could?”

He stroked her cheek and his thumb came to trace her lips. “Love. How consuming it is. How much it has made me want you. I don’t just want to spend time with you and talk with you and hold you but I want- I want to… to do things with you, to see you in a certain way, I-” 

Esme’s eyes were wide. Before her husband she had known young love. That young lover was a secret, one that filled her days with flowers and her nights with physical love, sweet and soft though it was. That younger lover had spoken to her like Carlisle was now. He sounded so young like this, so naive. She wanted to be his first in the right way. “Write it down,” she whispered. Gently she bit the tip of his thumb and his eyebrows creased as he watched her do it. “Write me letters. Save them. When the time is right, let me read them all.” 

He swallowed. “Are you teasing me?” 

“No.”

“Oh.” 

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Burying her face into his shoulder, his hand found its way back to its usual place at the back of her head, and she closed her eyes. The dark was safe again, and it gave her some peace. Everything was so much. God help her survive it.


	14. Edward's Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is different. This is going to be in Edward's first person POV, and is pretty light on Carlisle/Esme content. It's a very different style for me (I don't think I've ever written first person POV before) and I wrote it in one sitting with no edits or proof reading. Basically what I'm saying is, if it's garbage or OOC or has terrible pacing that's WHY. I'll return back to normal after this chapter and HOPEFULLY we can get to happy sexy times soon!

I hadn’t known hate before. Not really. I thought I had when I was a boy and the War had started and we all hated the Germans, but that was shallow and ungrounded and a lie we all told ourselves to make us sleep easier at night. Still, it drove me forward with a passion and I so desperately wanted to enlist and perhaps I would have, if God hadn’t chosen a different path for me. But this was hate. 

I perched on a branch in a tall spruce a mile out from the house. It was strange to hear Carlisle and Esme confess words of love like this. Uncomfortable, perhaps, knowing that I wasn’t welcome in their minds as I usually was, and guilty that I envied them. Carlisle had been alone for too long now and he deserved to know love like this, but his mind was a difficult place to be in a way it hadn’t been before; he loved so hard and so loud and he didn’t dare to say this aloud and I was stuck with it. Usually he could conceal his thoughts well from me - he was especially good at hiding surgeries and procedures involving a lot of blood to help me avoid any discomfort, for which I was always thankful - but this new rush of emotions drowned him. 

And Esme… sweet Esme. Never had I known a mind so kind. For the most part it was a safe place to be and I found such affection and warmth there, for Carlisle and me. That made  _ that man _ even more damnable. Just the thought of him made my lip curl in a snarl. He was a bully who got his kicks out of belittling those he saw as weak. He saw Esme as weak. She wasn’t weak. Her gentle heart was brave in the face of his sheer evil. 

He had to die. 

It would hurt her, but deep down she wanted him gone, she just didn’t want any of us to be the one to do it because she didn’t want our hands dirtied with his blood. But like the fires of the transformation this consumed me and it had done for days since our paths crossed. My fingers dug into the bark of the tree and I swayed slightly. The hate in my heart was all I could think about. It didn’t matter if that made me a monster. What he did to her was deserving of death. 

Since the decision had been made - it didn’t even feel conscious, it was just something that I had to do - it had been more difficult to be around Esme and Carlisle. Carlisle wanted this man dead as much as me and it horrified him to think like that. Although he felt as much anger as I - more, even - he had a better handle on his emotions and this was too foreign to him. As long as Esme was not in danger, he wouldn’t be able to take this man’s life despite his desire to. If we went together, I had no doubt that he wouldn’t be able to follow through. He was too good of a man for that. I wasn’t. 

So I kept out of the way of the two I had come to think of as my parents and kept to the forests. Going back into the city to try to trace the man’s scent had been fruitless and there were too many minds to sift through to try to find his, so I had given up the hunt within a few hours. Now I took to the trees around the house and kept watch in case he had found his way to us. Although Esme had been composed enough to give him a fake name the man hadn’t been so high that he had believed it, and unfortunately he had noticed that we talked to a doctor from the hospital. If the reception staff at the hospital were loose-lipped enough, a simple description of Carlisle could have given him everything, but as it was, there was no sign that the man had tracked them down. 

The sisters were due back soon, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to give a little bit of warning. I stayed out all night and hunted close to the house, never straying more than two miles out. There were plenty of options around Calgary especially in late spring and out of curiosity I plucked a badger off a trail and sank my teeth into it. It screamed like a banshee and wasn’t worth the earache, but at least my curiosity was satisfied if nothing else. A stray coyote washed the bitter taste from my mouth btu left a mess of my clothes. As the sun began to rise, I dragged myself home. 

Esmes thoughts welcomed me warmly as ever and she embraced me and plucked a few stray leaves from my hair. I pulled away awkwardly and she couldn’t hide her worry that she was pushing me from her. 

“It’s not you,” I answered her silent worries as honestly as I could. She held out her hand to me and I took it and squeezed it, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring look. “I just need some time alone at the moment. But it’s not your fault.” 

_ You were well until we went into the city.  _

I squeezed her hand again. Now was not the time to tell her that I was struggling to face her and Carlisle because I planned on murdering a man in cold blood. No, not cold blood, fiery passion. “What happened was not your fault, Esme.” 

Her sweet face was pulled down in a sad frown. I hated myself for making her feel so terrible. She leaned into my touch when I touched her face and she held onto my wrist.  _ Is there anything I can do to help?  _

I smiled. “This is all wrong, you know? I should be the one comforting you.” 

Carlisle came into the hallway from the dining room and met my gaze.  _ Are you alright? _

“Yes, I’m alright. I’m sorry for being so distant, I just… needed to be alone with my own thoughts.” They didn’t need to know that I had never strayed so far as to allow that to happen. But I felt responsible for them and their wellbeing and I couldn’t let them be alone for long at a time like this. Not when we were all suffering. 

“You bring me comfort by being here,” Esme told me gently. 

Guilt flooded me for a moment. She asked so little and these past few days I hadn’t even done that. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“That’s not what I meant.” She smiled as Carlisle shifted closer to her in the small hallway. They leaned together slightly without even realising. “I only mean that you don’t need to do anything in particular. It just feels better when all of us are together. But of course I understand that you need time alone.” 

When I looked into her wide, honey eyes I felt at home. Like everything was somehow going to work out. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” 

“I see you weren’t totally alone, though,” Carlisle remarked, trying to lighten the tone. He raised his eyebrows at my tattered jacket and shirt and grinned. “Cougar?” 

“Coyote,” I corrected, feeling myself grin in return. “I tried a badger first, though.” 

“What’s the verdict?” Esme asked curiously. 

“Terrible. Noisy, too. Not worth the bother.” 

They both laughed and it felt nice. A sense of contentment settled over me like it hadn’t in a while and I felt more at home again. Maybe my self-imposed exile hadn’t been necessary. 

“I thought I’d better come to change in case our guests arrived today.” 

“A bath wouldn’t go amiss either,” Esme added. She touched my cheek and rubbed off some dried blood with a fond smile. “You do smell, rather.” 

It was my turn to laugh and I agreed. I took time bathing and dressing, an hour or more. Esme and Carlisle went to his office and sat in companionable silence, sitting next to each other on the soft couch beneath the east window reading different books. Neither of their minds were on their texts, though, and both of them were more consumed with the thought of how close they were to each other, both of them yearning to reach out to the other but not quite daring. Now and again they caught themselves and remembered that I could probably hear. If I hadn’t felt so awkward it might have been comical how Carlisle’s evasion tactic today was to translate his Spanish version of  _ Don Quixote _ into Italian. Still, when his thoughts turned to how Esme’s tongue tasted in his mouth I frowned. The overwhelming sentiments of love were more palatable than that. But still, I had to remind myself that he was, biologically at least, a twenty-three(ish) year old man experiencing love for the first time. Esme was very beautiful, too, I had to admit. Possibly the most beautiful person I had ever seen. The only person who had ever come close to her was Tanya, and she was something else entirely. 

Her arrival came before midday, along with her sisters and the other two members of her family. They came at an almost human speed and I heard their minds before the cars they drove. It was a surprise to hear the two motorcars but when they pulled into the long drive and the cars came into view it quickly became obvious why they were necessary. The group did not pack light, it seemed, and they had taken our invitation very literally. They had enough luggage to last them a month, at least. It made Carlisle and Esme beam. He was thrilled at seeing their new friends and his old friend, and she was delighted at the prospect of having a full home for the first time. 

Having five new vampire minds suddenly come into my sphere of reality was jarring at first but with three of the minds already familiar, it took only a few moments to adjust. Kate drove the first car and it skidded to a stop at the bottom of the porch stairs. The sisters leaped out of the motorcar and bounded up the stairs eagerly. Kate’s eyes lingered on Carlisle and although outwardly Tanya was more discrete, I heard the tenor of her thoughts. It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. 

“We’re so glad you were able to come back so soon!” Carlisle said after the warm greetings had been exchanged. He kissed the hands of each sister and Esme beamed at each of them, saving her warmest smile for Irina. I could see a tight bond forming between them quickly. 

“We couldn’t stay away!” Kate laughed, a cheeky edge to her voice. Ah, so she was not ready to give up her pursuit. Admirable, albeit irritating to witness from inside her own mind, when she was so sure of success. Of course there was no malice toward Esme and she only saw Carlisle as a moment in time, and I didn’t know if this annoyed me less or more. 

“I hope you don’t mind that we brought a few things,” Irina gestured to their loaded car. 

“Of course not! Please, stay for as long as you like,” Carlisle answered warmly. 

The second car pulled up much more carefully and I lifted my chin to look at the two strangers. A man got out of the driver’s door and flitted to open the passenger door, smiling at the woman for whom he held out his hand. The pair wound their arms around each others’ back and slowly made their way to us. They didn’t want to pose a threat. 

The man was shorter than me but not by much, and there was kindness in his angular face. His dark hair was pulled back into a soft bun at the back of his head a few waves hung about his face, contrasting with his olive skin and golden eyes. He was very handsome. The woman at his side was radiant; her skin was darker than her mate’s and her hair fell about her in tousled waves as dark as the night. Her gold eyes sparkled and she glanced up at her mate with an excited smile. Her thoughts were eager - she was as pleased to meet us as the sisters had been. It warmed me. 

Carlisle walked down the porch steps to the newcomers and he was beaming. He threw open his arms and Eleazar met him with just as much happiness. “Eleazar! My old friend!” 

“Carlisle!” His voice was deep and had a rich Spanish accent. 

They kissed on each cheek twice and clasped each other’s arms before Eleazar looked down at his mate. “Let me introduce my wife, Carmen. Carmen, this is Carlisle!” 

“Carlisle, I’ve heard so much about you! Thank you for welcoming us to your home!” 

Fluent in his Spanish, Carlisle answered her in their native tongue and Carmen was delighted further. They exchanged kisses and happy words that I couldn’t understand. I moved closer to Esme on the porch and she linked my arm through hers. 

_ Don’t let me go, _ she thought. 

I squeezed her arm and smiled at her. She was nervous to meet any newcomer but it was different compared to last time - she was prepared this time. She was hesitant and nervous but she was eager, too. 

At the bottom of the porch stairs Carlisle turned to us and held out his arm. His chest was puffed out with pride. “This is my family. My son, Edward, and our companion, Esme.” 

Carmen and Eleazar’s thoughts told me that they were already aware of our family dynamic, and my gift. Neither of them tried to test my thoughts but I could hear Eleazar probing at my mind. It was an odd sensation, almost like he was poking me with a very soft stick, and then suddenly my own ability was in his mind and I was seeing it. It was so bizarre that I laughed aloud. 

Esme did a double take at my sudden outburst and Carlisle smiled in confusion. “Edward?” 

“I’m sorry,” I apologised, but I laughed again in shock. “I- I’ve never met anyone with a gift like yours, Eleazar! I’m speechless!” 

Esme was mortified momentarily that I was not acting in an appropriate way to welcome our guests but I couldn’t force myself to act human on this occasion. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Carmen answered warmly, but she was curious. Her arm around Eleazar tightened, 

“The pleasure is all mine,” I replied, and I quickly joined Carlisle on the garden path. I held out my hand and shook the hands of the newcomers in welcome. “Forgive me my outburst, but to see my gift through your eyes is amazing!” 

Eleazar’s eyes narrowed for a moment but then he smiled, then he laughed, and we shook hands again. “God by good, Edward, I’ve never met anyone with such a powerful gift!” 

In his mind he was quickly remembering all the vampires he knew with powerful abilities, so quick that I couldn’t keep up, and some of them I would have to ask him about in the future, and he was trying to find one that was comparable to mine. He kept coming back to Aro. It made me feel humble, almost. Sometimes it felt like a curse, and his perspective was reassuring. 

“Not even mine?” Kate challenged from the porch. 

“Ah, Kate,” he answered easily. “I could never compare the two gifts!” 

“I believe you just did,” she countered. “I’ll fight you for Eleazar’s approval, Edward. See which gift gives us the upper hand.” 

I turned to her and saw her grin and it was impossible not to return. 

“Ah, not even inside the house and already fighting,” Tanya laughed and she turned to Esme. “Come, my love, might we see the rooms we can use? I’m in need of that wonderful hot water bath you have.” 

“Edward, Carlisle, would you bring the bags for the ladies?” Esme called to us. 

Carlisle’s spirit soared when he heard her voice and he looked at her with such love in his eyes that it made me warm just to be near. No one else seemed to notice. “Of course. Carmen, would you like to join Esme? She’ll be happy to show you the house.” 

“Thank you, Carlisle,” she answered happily, her accent making her words so sweet. In a second she was with the sisters and kissing Esme’s cheeks in greeting. Unused to such a European custom, Esme was a little taken aback and although her nerves bubbled beneath the surface, she felt safe. She led the ladies inside and we were left to deal with the luggage. 

It was impossible to get a word in edgeways with Carlisle and Eleazar. Considering that Carlisle had said they had not known each other well in Volterra, they seemed to fall easily into knowing every detail of each other’s lives since they both left. Eleazar told us that he met Carmen and she wanted a more peaceful life and after a few decades, they decided to leave and try to find a different way of life. Only a few years wandering in city and wilderness alike, they found the sisters and they quickly became a family. 

A few trips between the cars and the bedrooms were needed thanks to the amount of bags our guests had brought. Esme had set up her room for the sisters to use, and my room had been offered for Carmen and Eleazar. Given that sleep, and therefore beds, weren’t an issue, it had only taken a single trip into the city to arrange for a few desks and sofas and wardrobes to be delivered as a rush job and the rooms were ready for our guests. Esme spent more time in Carlisle’s room than her own, anyway, and I preferred the lounge where my piano had pride of place. By the time the luggage was sorted, the ladies had made their way into the dining room. We only had six chairs around the table there - three on each side - and Esme sat on one side with Kate, and Irina, Tanya, and Carmen sat opposite. They were all relaxed. 

I popped my head around the door while Eleazar and Carlisle settled in the lounge and Esme’s face lit up. 

“Come join us,” she asked lightly. _ Please don’t leave me. I like them but I need you.  _

I smiled. She was feeling overwhelmed, and every day she was getting better at asking for help when she needed it. I took the seat next to her and squeezed her hand under the table. “Gladly. I think Carlisle and Eleazar forgot about me the moment they began catching up.” 

The ladies laughed. “You must forgive him,” Tanya said lightly. “Since we told him and Carmen about our meeting, he has been so excited. I think he’s glad to find some male friends with the same diet.” 

“Am I less male than Carlisle?” I feigned indignation and quickly added, “it’s quite alright. I’m glad they have found an old friend in the other.” 

“He enjoyed his time with the Volturi,” Carmen added, smiling at me. She had a sunny disposition. “He was proud to be part of the Guard, but he enjoyed the culture more than anything. There are so many brilliant minds behind the walls of the city, unlike anywhere else in the world! He’s delighted to find one of those minds here.” 

“In the most unlikely of places,” I agreed. 

Her smile widened and she held my gaze. When she spoke again, she was keen. “So it’s true. You really can read minds?” 

“Yes.” 

“What am I thinking?” 

I licked my lips and looked down, trying and failing to hide my amusement. “I can’t understand Spanish.” 

“If I think of a picture, can you see it?” 

“Yes,” I confirmed, nodding. “Just like you can see in your own mind. Show me something.” 

She watched me as she thought. A grand palace grew up from the trees, bricks bleached pale in the scorching sun. It was angular and had turrets and sloping mountains behind it. A great wall surrounded the central complex, and then she was showing me inside; arches and mosaics and water gardens, pillars and ceilings carved beautifully. From what little I knew of architecture, it looked Arabic. I hadn’t seen it before, but Carmen thought of the name. 

“Alhambra?” I asked. “A city?” 

Carmen clapped her hands together in delight. “A palace! Close to where I grew up!” 

“It’s beautiful,” I replied. “Esme, have you heard of it?” 

“I know a little of it.” She was shy being put on the spot in front of others.

“You’d love it!” 

She smiled up at me.  _ Maybe we can get Carlisle to take us some time.  _

“Could you read minds as a human?” Carmen asked. 

I shook my head. “No, but think I understood others well. I could guess what they were thinking based on the physical clues they gave me, or how they spoke. I think it might have been common sense and observation, but Carlisle thinks it was a sign of the supernatural, or something along those lines.” 

Esme nodded. “Carlisle thinks that whatever natural characteristics we have as humans are exemplified as vampires, even if that doesn’t present itself as an exceptional gift.” 

“Do you agree with him?” Tanya asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Esme answered. “Certainly with Edward that seems to be true. But to those of us without a gift, I can’t decide.” 

“Did you show signs of your gift as a human?” I asked Kate who was sitting on Esme’s other side. 

She raised her hand in front of her and watched the waggle of her fingers. “I don’t think so. Maybe it’s all random. We might never know.” 

Irina said something in reply but I was distracted. From the other room, I heard Carlisle’s thoughts. He was thinking of Esme and I, and the call of my name, though unintentional, had caught my attention. He was talking to Eleazar how he came to find us, and there was the usual guilt in his thoughts; although he was glad to have us in his life, he often felt that he had condemned us to a life that we didn’t want. It was true that this way of life was a burden, but no amount of words could convince Carlisle that I was thankful for it. I was happier now than I had ever been as a human. If anything, I wanted more of this life. I resented him more for curbing my appetite lately. 

The conversation drifted onward and I excused myself to sit with Carlisle and Eleazar. I spoke now and again but was mostly glad to listen to my father having such a good connection with an old friend. His happiness was always infectious to me. Eventually Kate drifted in, and then Carmen, and Esme made her way upstairs to Carlisle’s office, taking Irina with her. The house hummed with pleasant thoughts and conversations. 

Feeling a little like a spare part, I wandered back into the dining room and found Tanya alone. She grinned up at me and I smiled back. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” she remarked coyly. She really was the most exquisite creature. 

“Quite the surprise,” I joked. 

“Do you come here often?” 

“Is that a line that works well on the men you seduce?” 

She laughed. “I’m not sure if it’s the lines, or… everything else.” She stood up and walked around the table to stand closer to me. Her thoughts were seductive and I just shook my head in amusement. 

“Shall we go for a stroll?” I asked, and I held out my arm to her. 

“Is that a proposition, Mister Cullen?” 

“No, not the kind you’re thinking of. Just a friendly stroll, I’m afraid.” 

_ Bah! I’ll take what I can get.  _

I grinned and she took my arm. It felt nice. 

We left out the back door and made our way lazily across the meadow at the back of the house and towards the forests. Pleasant conversation with Tanya was easy, despite the tenor of her thoughts, and she told me of their journey back to Carmen and Eleazar, and how thrilled they had been. Their new house hadn’t been chosen yet and so all of their possessions were in the house they were planning to leave. They also had two cars and it had taken far longer to come back to us with the cars than to run to find the couple. 

Tanya had a nice way of telling stories. It would be so much nicer if her thoughts hadn’t been so muddied with smut. I just wanted her to be my friend. 

When we were a few miles out, she demonstrated why she would be such a good friend to me. She was very perceptive. “Might I ask you a bold question, Edward?” 

I glanced at her curiously. “Please, go ahead.” I hadn’t seen this coming. 

“Are you quite well?” 

“What makes you ask that?” 

She took a few moments to answer, and each word seemed carefully considered. “You don’t seem yourself.” 

I smiled, and answered as gently as I could. “We haven’t known each other long enough for you to know what my true self is.” 

She chuckled. “Well, you’re not wrong there. But you are different from when we last met. You’re… more withdrawn. And your smiles seem… heavy.” 

Perhaps I hadn’t been as subtle as I had hoped. A sigh escaped me. “Can you keep a secret?” 

She nodded. “Not from mind-readers, but yes.” 

Her joke made me smile and I was grateful for it. “I’m starting to wonder if there is more to this life than domesticity.” 

Another pause, and more careful words. “Are you feeling trapped?” 

“Not trapped,” I mused quietly. The forest was quiet around us. Unfortunately the fauna was more acutely aware of the danger we posed than the humans we were so eager to mix with. “Just a bit… restless.” 

“Perhaps you need a run.” 

“No, it’s… it’s more than that.” 

“If there were no consequences, what would you want to do?” 

I thought about that one for a long time. There were so many possibilities. Esme’s husband was at the top of my list. I would wipe him from existence. “I’d try another way.” 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“What’s stopping you from going back to it?” I asked, wanting to know the answer from her. I knew what Carlisle’s answer would be; he never wanted to be a monster. But what if killing to meet our basic need wasn’t monstrous? 

Tanya smiled and took in a deep breath. The forest air was fresh. “Selfishness. My sisters and I only took up this habit to help us satisfy our hedonism. We enjoy sex and love more than the temporary satisfaction of blood.” 

“Can you truly love a human?” 

“Not in the way you can love a vampire, I don’t think,” she admitted. “And I never met a human I loved enough to turn. I think a vampire can only love another vampire. So until I meet the right vampire, I’ll continue to enjoy humans.” 

“I’m not that vampire.” 

Tanya smiled again. “I know. You’d just be a distraction.” 

“Does Kate know Carlisle is not that vampire for her, either?” 

“Kate has a good heart. Under all that bravado, she is quite soft. I think she hopes for more than she should.” 

“He’s besotted,” I said. 

“She seems to be, too. Why don’t they just get on with it?” 

I swallowed. “Esme has a human husband that she feels tied to. While he lives, she won’t move on. And I wish she would.” 

“Why doesn’t she turn the husband if she can’t get over him?” 

I hesitated, wondering how much of my secrets I should share. But I had held them so close for what felt like a long time, it felt so good to let them all out now. “He’s an abomination, Tanya. He’s evil.” Red sparked at the corners of my vision. Just thinking of him was infuriating. “I’ve never wanted someone dead and I’ve never wanted to hurt someone, not really. But, God, Tanya, I can’t even put into words-” 

I let go of her arm and clasped my hands together to stop myself from trembling with anger. She respected the distance I put between us and for that I was grateful. My feet stopped moving and she stopped a few feet further down the path. 

“I want to kill him. I want to kill others like him. I want to use my abilities to rid the world of monsters like him. But mostly I want to make him hurt. For everything he did to her.” 

“What does Carlisle think?” I only ask because it’s clear you think the world of him. 

“He opposes violence and the killing of any human for any reason. But he hates this man as much as me,  _ more _ than me, and I’ve seen how he fantasizes about killing him. He could never go through with it, though, there’s too much guilt even in his thoughts about it.” I shouldn’t have told her about this very private thing, especially about Carlisle’s private thoughts, but once I started I couldn’t stop. “We met him a few days ago, pure coincidence. He’s in this city and he saw Esme and recognised her but she lied about it smoothly. She was terrified though, and I saw both of their memories and- oh God, it was… I can’t put it into words.” 

Tanya listened in silence. When I finally looked at her, there was anger in her face.  _ Esme is the sweetest soul I’ve met in a long time. I don’t know her well, but I know it’s monstrous to hurt her in any way.  _

“Would it be wrong to unleash all of my anger on him?” 

She watched me from her distance and considered. “You would like to hunt humans?” 

“Yes.” 

“But only the worst of the worst; the predators and murderers and rapists?” 

“Yes.” 

She looked fierce but happy about my answer. “Then execute them, if that is your will. Do not take revenge for their crimes. It’s not your revenge to take. But execute them and feed on them and make the world a safer place for good people.” 

I looked at her with wide eyes. It felt so real to hear it from someone else. Dread filled the pit of my stomach. Was I really going to do this? “But what if it’s the wrong thing?” 

“How can it be the wrong thing if you’re making the world safer?” 

“Because they’re still… they’re still people.” 

“Edward.” Tanya’s voice was softer now. “You have been blessed with a creator who has the purest intentions, and you have great self control. That would be a great deal to waste.” 

The red began to ebb from my vision, and when Tanya came closer to me I did not stop her. She linked her arm through mine and led me to walk with her again. 

“I’m sorry that you’re carrying this burden,” she said after a while. 

“What burden?”

“Your crisis of conscience. It sounds like you haven’t been able to talk to Carlisle and Esme about this.” 

“I told them that I wanted her husband dead, and I wanted to kill him, but Esme said she couldn’t have that marring her soul for eternity. Carlisle wants him dead too, but he won’t ask me to do it because he doesn’t want to put that on me. More importantly, he can’t bear to go against her.” 

She sighed. “You’re in quite the position then, aren’t you? What will you do?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll spend some time apart from them and make a decision without them. Some distance might help. Could I come with you when you leave?” 

“I can’t stop you. But I’d rather not know either way.” 

I gave her a questioning look. 

Tanya smiled. “I don’t want to betray Carlisle and Esme in any way. I don’t want them to think I’ve stolen their son. I already feel like I’m leading you further from their light.” 

“Tanya, I’m sorry, I-”

“Oh, hush,” she interrupted me. “I’m only teasing. I’m glad you told me this. We’re friends, you and I. And all we have spoken of will never be discussed with another soul.” 

I believed her. “Thank you.”

* * *

The rest of the family’s visit went smoothly. Kate continued to try to seduce a bemused Carlisle, and although Tanya did not attempt the same with me, her thoughts often strayed into the scandalous where I was concerned. Carmen and Irina developed deep bonds with Esme, and Eleazar and Carlisle picked up right where they had left off two hundred years ago. The three of us spent many evenings beneath the stars talking of my gift, of the past and the future, and Esme frequently joined us. They were conversations Eleazar had already had many times with his wife and sisters, but they were new to us, and we loved them. 

We grew to love them deeply in that month. They came to our home as new friends, and left our home as beloved family. I could see the hurt in Esme’s eyes and concern in Carlisle’s when I told them I would travel with our new family for a while. Esme begged me to stay after I told her that I didn’t know how long I would be away. She asked if it would be weeks, or a month, and I couldn’t answer her and she was so distressed I almost broke and cancelled my plans. But Carlisle reassured her that this was not forever, this was just temporary, and I nodded and promised I would be home soon. 

I had become so good at it, not even Carlisle could tell that I was lying. I hugged them tightly goodbye and joined Carmen and Eleazar in their car. As far as they knew, what I told Carlisle and Esme was true. But a week into the trip, I would tell them that I changed my mind and I was going home to them, but in reality I would break off and return to the city and hunt Charles Evenson down. I would execute him and others like him, and I would feast. And I would never see my loving parents again. 

I think some part of Esme knew that when we said our final farewell. She clutched me close and pleaded with me to stay. She thought of the son she lost and of the son she was now losing, and although she apologised to me for her thoughts, that she did not mean it, I knew she did. What was worse, I knew she was right. Carlisle kissed my forehead and bid me a safe trip, and asked me to come home soon. It was agony to leave them behind. They waved the cars down the drive as we left. Although I swore I wouldn’t, a mile out from the house I searched out their minds. Esme wept and Carlisle held her close. He was numb, he couldn’t feel the agony of our parting yet. Esme felt it all. 

I bid my parents a silent farewell, and prayed, if our paths ever crossed again, they would forgive me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was way longer than I anticipated. Side note if any of you wanna read some Carlisle/Esme smut I added a smutty oneshot to this series 🥴 good times for this fic are finally ahead!


	15. The Gaping Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is very much a filler chapter and doesn't have much of a narrative. You can probably skim it to get the general gist tbh. Thank you once again for the incredible support you are showing me with reviews and connections on Tumblr, I feel so blessed to have regular readers who leave regular reviews, every single one of them really brightens my day like I can't put into words how fantastic they are for me!

The post was early this morning. Esme heard the van at the top of the long drive and she took her time walking to the mailbox to fetch the mail. Inside, she was yearning to run, in case today was the day, but she was practicing control in all areas of life in the hope that it would help her resist her thirst. Carlisle had just got home from the night shift and was bathing else he would have joined her. It was a pleasant walk up the long drive alone though; mostly a mud and grass pathway with two tyre tracks worn into it, trees and lush forest undergrowth lining each side, it was secluded and peaceful. The early June air was fresh, and the morning sun filtered through green leaves from the east and made diamonds dance on her skin. Esme touched the pale fabric of her dress as it moved in the wind and she smiled. 

Four letters were in the mailbox when she reached it. Three had Carlisle’s name printed by a typewriter, but the fourth envelope was thick and an elegant script labeled her and Carlisle’s name and address. It wasn’t Edward’s writing. She frowned. Not long ago Esme had written to their new friends and Edward, but she remembered that she had put all the letters in the same envelope for mailing. Perhaps his letter was inside this envelope. 

It was difficult to resist opening the letter until she got back to the house but she couldn’t stop from running back up the drive. In a flash she was through the front door and had locked it behind her, and she darted upstairs to Carlisle’s room. He was still in the bathroom and she frowned again. As a human she would have fidgeted dreadfully, but as a vampire she sat very still as she waited, feeling nervous. Why was Carlisle taking so long? It wouldn’t be right to open the letter without him. 

The sound of the plug being pulled out of the bath was as loud as a gun in the quiet house. Her head jerked up and she watched the office door with wide eyes. It wasn’t possible to see the bathroom door from the couch in the office but he would be in soon. She gripped the letters a little tighter. 

After what felt like a lifetime, Carlisle came into the office. It had become  _ their _ space more than  _ his _ now, and Esme took comfort in the walls of books and paintings, the dark woods and leathers, the old globe in the corner and the stacks of paper on his desk, and the smell of him everywhere. He liked her to be in this room too, and they used this room more than the lounge. That room was cold now, unused, and the beautiful piano in the corner waited, cover pulled over it, for its owner to come home. 

"What’s wrong?” Carlisle asked. 

Esme held up the letters, all four still in her hand, and his brow creased. “Invoices?” 

She moved up on the couch to make room for him and he took his place next to her on the cold leather. Setting the other letters on the coffee table in front of them, she held out the thick envelope with their names on. “It came just now.” 

“Only one letter?” 

She nodded and Carlisle squeezed her knee. “Should I open it?” she asked nervously. 

“Yes, please.” 

There was tension between them. Something about the letter didn’t feel right. It should be in Edward’s hand, and it  _ wasn’t. _ Both of them were on edge. 

Carefully she broke the seal and four pages of paper - written on both sides - fell out. Esme caught them and her eyes quickly scanned the words. Words of greeting from their cousins, of thanks for the visit, descriptions of their cousins’ new home, and there, on the final page- 

“Esme?” Carlisle sounded alarmed. 

Esme blinked, realising the horror she felt inside was probably written across her face. “He’s- he’s not with them.” 

“Can I-?” He gestured to the letter and Esme passed him the papers automatically. She stared into nothing, feeling nothing. The nothingness was all she could feel. 

Carlisle’s hand on her knee gripped tighter the more he read and worry lines appeared on his forehead. Esme blindly found his hand on her leg and wove her fingers through his so they could squeeze each other hard. It grounded them both, but barely. 

“They said he left a week after they left us,” Carlisle said softly. The papers fell to the floor. Neither of them would need to read it again to remember exactly what the letter said. “That he had changed his mind and wanted to come home. But…” 

“But they left us over a month ago,” Esme finished, her voice just as quiet. She was staring into nothing, a grey haze swirling about her, as reality began to set in. He had left them. Edward was  _ gone.  _ “If he wanted to be home, he would be by now.”

“No word from him.” Carlisle sounded heartbroken. “Not an explanation. Just… gone.” 

The sorrow in his voice dragged Esme back to reality. She turned her gaze to him and she had never seen him look so lost. His brows pulled together and his eyes were wide, and he looked younger than his twenty three human years. Never had Esme seen a vampire so vulnerable. 

“What are we going to do?” he asked her. 

She didn’t have an answer. Instead, she held open her arms to him and he went to her. She kissed his temple and held him. Carlisle buried his face in her neck and pushed his hand into her hair, stroking strands between his fingers and thumb. 

“Perhaps he is still coming home,” she murmured. Her hand rested at the back of his head, gently playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Maybe he’s just taking a scenic route back.” 

It was unlikely. It was obvious to them both why Edward should have been home a month ago but still was not. His talk of his gift, of Charles and of wanting to rid the world of bad people, his increasing dislike of animal blood - he wanted to feed on humans. It was something Esme had feared for a while now. It had started innocently enough, with Edward remarking how foul feeding on animals sometimes felt, but he had said it, at first, with good humour. Then came his debates of their nature and that, perhaps, this was God’s will. If they were made in God’s image as Men, perhaps this was a great evolution of that image, something greater and, yes, more terrible, but greater nonetheless. Both Carlisle and Esme had disagreed with him, but they could see how he had come to that conclusion. Then there was his attitude of Charles. 

Carlisle had said, after all, that after meeting Siobhan and seeing her live a happy life on a diet of humans, Edward had resented him for keeping the truth from him and had withdrawn for a few weeks. When their cousins had stayed with them, Edward had spent a lot of time alone with Tanya discussing goodness knows what. Maybe she had put into his mind that living on human blood wasn’t fundamentally wrong. After all, Tanya and her sisters only came to this life originally because they wanted to better resist the temptation of their lovers' blood. 

Carlisle pulled away to look at her, and his smile was so sad she couldn’t bear to see it. “I don’t think so, Esme. But I’m glad for your hope. I just… I don’t think he’s coming home.” 

His beautiful face crumpled and Esme stroked his cheek. In one smooth movement she settled in the corner of the sofa and pulled Carlisle to her, and as he curled up against her he wept. They both did. Esme stroked his hair and kissed his forehead, and he held her hand and hid his face in her neck. They stayed like that for hours, grieving the son that had left. 

Perhaps human minds would have taken longer to digest the situation. Perhaps mortal minds would not have so easily accepted that Edward had abandoned their family, and mortals would look for alternative truths to avoid what was so obvious. But the clarity of immortality would not allow Esme and Carlisle such refuge in hope, and this reality was a force neither of them could keep at bay. This was happening, this was real, and this was terrible. 

* * *

In the following weeks it was even more difficult for them to be apart. Usually, it was uncomfortable for both of them during Carlisle’s shifts, but it was manageable, they could function. With the loss of Edward without so much as a farwell, they both felt like they were missing a limb, and so came to rely on each other as a crutch. Esme was forlorn in the house alone with no one to talk to and no one to keep her company. Carlisle was anxious and doubted himself at work and at home. Whilst they still had happy moments when they almost forgot their sorrow, the silence Edward left always remained. 

At the end of the summer, Esme had another lapse. She had been testing herself by hunting less, in an attempt to build up her stamina, although Carlisle had advised that, in his experience, that came with time but not practice. She trusted him but she also wanted to be able to trust herself. That trust was ill-placed one rainy August evening. Rain made humans smell so much better. It was only one person this time, a hunter. She was tracking a bear whose path had crossed with the hunter’s, and his trail was fresher and more tempting. With vision scarlet red and self-control lax, Esme hadn’t been able to resist the urge for long. 

It was hard to come home to Carlisle with ruby eyes. Last time, Edward had helped her in more ways than one and she needed him now but she couldn’t have him. Another rift appeared between Carlisle and Esme that took a long time to heal. Much of it was because Esme couldn’t understand her own thoughts and so much of her anxiety was rooted in fear of how Carlisle would react. Another failure. Another reason for him not to love her. But he had asked her again and again to go to the man’s funeral in atonement for what had happened and it was the first time he had made her feel forced into anything. Only when she finally stopped hiding how distressed she was did he relent. He apologised. They talked of it. He explained that he was still trying to understand what it truly meant to be a creator and how difficult it could be to try to be both a man and a maker. After, he promised to do better in the future. She had promised to help him. When he had gone to embrace her, she had turned away. 

But time passed. They moved away from Calgary, but not far, and took on new names. They became the Platt siblings, Anne and Christopher. Carlisle worked for a small hospital in a small town and Esme hid from the world. They saw Christmas in their house there but it didn’t feel like home. The long nights grew too dark and Esme couldn’t bear it. Neither of them could. By Twelfth Night they were with their cousins up north and their company was welcome. It eased the tension in Carlisle and Esme and they came back together slowly but surely. Life was all the better for it. But they missed their son. 

Tanya liked to spend time with them. Moonlit hikes up foreboding mountains were no problem for immortals such as them, and she was showing Carlisle and Esme one of her favourite spots. A lesser peak, but she had promised that two-thirds of the way up there was a small outcrop, big enough for five or six people to sit comfortably around a fire, and it had the most beautiful views. Sure enough, the little ledge had been found and Carlisle and Esme stood close together, fingers linked, as they looked out across the land and sky, snow stretching to the horizon. Carlisle glanced down at Esme when she turned her gaze to the stars and she smiled so wide. Carlisle would always remember how she looked just then. 

“I’ve never seen the world like this,” Esme breathed. “It’s wonderful.” 

Tanya sat in the snow and dangled her legs off the edge, not bothered by the unfathomable drop below. She lay back and looked up at the stars, too. “It really is. I love it here.” 

“I can see why.” Esme sat next to Tanya and rested her head on her shoulder for a moment. “Thank you for bringing us here.” 

Tanya kissed Esme’s head. “You’re welcome, my darling. I’m glad to see you smile again. Both of you.”

Carlisle sat on the other side of Esme, and she moved her head from Tanya’s shoulder to Carlisle’s. He wrapped his arm behind her back and held out that hand to Tanya, connecting the three of them. She took his hand and squeezed. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. His words carried more weight than he could vocalise. 

Tanya held his gaze and there was pity in her eyes. “Has he written at all?” 

Esme’s face was still turned skyward but she closed her eyes. “No.” 

“Do you have any idea where he-? Where he  _ might _ be? Who he might be with?” 

Carlisle smiled but it looked too much a wince. “There’s no way of knowing. No one else has a permanent address, and we don’t want to travel in case he comes home.” 

“We only came here because we knew if he couldn’t find us, this was the first place he’d come looking,” Esme added. Her eyes opened again and she looked to the stars. 

Tanya rolled a small ball of snow between her fingers and flicked it off the edge. It was lost to the wind before they could hear it break on the mountain face below. “Have you written to Volterra? Perhaps he’s there?” 

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a long look as they considered this.

“No, we haven’t,” he replied slowly. “But it would make sense. They’re cultured, they’re intelligent, they’re civilised - maybe that’s where he  _ has _ gone.”

“We didn’t even think of that!” Hope had returned to Esme at the suggestion. Above all else, and despite everything she had endured, she always believed that things would work out in the end. “Could you write to Aro?” 

He nodded. “Yes. As odd as it may seem, they do have a postal address. I wonder…” 

Esme gave him a questioning look to prompt him. He gave her a sweet smile as an apology for his unfinished thought. 

“I wonder how candid I ought to be.” 

“In what way?” Tanya asked. She flicked another miniature snowball into the night air. She seemed relaxed. It made Carlisle and Esme feel more at ease. 

“Well, should I tell them that a member of my coven has left us and we are trying to track down his whereabouts? Or do I mention that I have a coven, and just hope that in any reply I get, Edward is mentioned if he is, in fact, in Volterra?” 

Esme smiled. “They’re your friends, Carlisle. I think there is no harm in total honesty.” 

“They’re more than just another coven, my darling,” Tanya said, an edge to her voice now. Esme noticed the shift in her tone and it made her tense. Carlisle felt her freeze and rubbed her arm in comfort. “They’re king and executioner.” 

“But this is a personal matter, not one of crime and punishment,” Carlisle reminded her gently. Esme shrank against him slightly, feeling foolish in the face of Tanya’s slight shift. The tiniest change in tone always felt enormous to Esme. 

“What if they think there is foul play?” Tanya pressed. “And they become involved?” 

Carlisle shook his head. “There is no law they enforce in such a suspicion. Even if there was foul play - which there is not - they would not get involved. No, I think Esme is right. I will be honest with them, to a degree. Besides, it has been many years since I last wrote to them, and I have had many happy changes that they should know. Aro especially will be pleased.” 

The wind whipped about them and the howls of a distant wolf pack were carried up to them from the west. Tanya smiled at the sound but there was a hollowness to it. She always changed when the Volturi were mentioned, but Esme and Carlisle were yet to understand why. “What will you do if he is with them?” 

“If he’s happy with them, then we will be too,” came Esme’s quiet answer. She leaned into Carlisle’s side and he held her close. Although they were unaffected by the cold, some old human instinct seemed to want them to huddle together for the memory of warmth. “I want him home, but I want him to be happy more than anything else.” 

“Would you have him home if he continued to feed on humans?” 

There was no hesitation in Esme’s response. “Yes.” She looked up at Carlisle, his face close to hers as he held her, and was surprised at the contemplative expression he wore. 

He was watching Tanya carefully, clearly considering each word. “I would not turn him away,” he said slowly after a long pause. The distant winds howled on the air. “But I would not be happy. I would rather be with him than without, but if he came home and insisted on feeding on humans, it would be… difficult.”

“But he is your son,” Tanya said. It wasn’t a question. 

Esme smiled and Carlisle nodded. “Yes, he is our son. If, and when, he returns, we will welcome him with open arms.” 

The letter to Italy was sent in the morning. Carlisle told his friends of his new coven, of Edward and Esme, of their lives together and their diet, and how happy he was to have a family. He was honest that Edward had left them without telling them where he was going or when he would be back, and that if they knew of his whereabouts to please let him know. They put their home address as the return, and left their cousins in higher spirits than they had arrived. Esme especially was filled with hope. 

A month after they returned home, well into the spring of 1923 and almost a year after Edward had left, they had a disappointing reply from Carlisle’s friends. His friend Aro wrote in an elegant hand of his delight at the addition of Edward and Esme to his family, and he enclosed a gift for Esme. Inside a gilded box of gold and nestled into a soft pillow of purple velvet was a necklace so extravagant that Esme was left speechless. Three chains strung with diamonds and emeralds made up the piece, dozens and dozens of stones that shimmered and sparkled in the light, each emerald surrounded by petals of diamonds. She was dazzled by it, and closed the lid of the box quickly. Carlisle had smiled and remarked that Aro always liked to remind the world of his wealth. 

But the letter that accompanied it did not confirm their hopes - Edward was not in Volterra. 

* * *

> **1924**

They found a house on a hill, lonely and windy, and made it a home. Esme painted. Carlisle worked. They had happy days, they had sad days. They were in a perpetual state of love and sorrow. Esme resisted the temptation of human blood better each day. Edward did not write. 

* * *

> **1925**

The home was safe, warm. Carlisle was so proud of Esme when two years were passed and she had not succumbed to temptation. She could walk through town alone now and she was happy. Edward used to buy her flowers, and she bought them for herself instead now. Their cousins came to visit in the autumn. Edward did not write. 

* * *

> **1926**

Esme faced her greatest temptation when she attended one of Carlisle’s work functions hosted at the hospital. Although it was far from the wards, she could still hear weak hearts, strong hearts, she could smell blood - so much blood - she managed to keep herself under control. It was unpleasant, but she did it. That night, she and Carlisle had kissed. He asked her to marry him, whispering the question against her lips. This time it didn’t hurt nearly as much when she had to deny him, because it wasn’t an ‘if’, it was a ‘when’. And she asked if he asked her now because she resisted temptation, and she was finally worthy of him, and so if she lapsed she would not be worthy? He kissed her again and told her no, that he was just so happy to share this moment with her, to have her in his human life and his vampire, that he had never felt such joy and he could not help himself. She held his waist and leaned into his kisses. Edward did not write. 

* * *

> **1927**

Edward did not write. 

* * *

> **1928**

Edward did not write. But one winter’s day, standing at the kitchen sink washing her art brushes clean, Esme saw him on the horizon. Against the brilliance of his skin, the snow looked grey. The world stopped spinning. Time frozen. And she called out to him and they ran to him. His eyes were orange, his shoulders were stooped, but he caught her in his arms and he held her close when she kissed his face. Carlisle hugged them both and at last the family was whole again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edward's home!!!! Esme is so much better now, she's healing!! Carlisle is thirsty!! Charles is - and we know this from canon, this is not a spoiler - dead! YOUS KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER HUH. HUH. WINK WINK.


	16. The Prodigal Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter is taken from Midnight Sun almost word for word. I just love how SMeyer describes so much with so few words. It could NEVER be me my luvlies xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will lack the shipping content that I mistakenly promised at the end of the last chapter and I can't guarantee that the next chapter will be the wedding but we are finally getting there! I felt it important to have this chapter, though, with Edward coming home to Esme and Carlisle, as this is my project on Esme herself and Edward is so important to her. I also listened to a lot of sappy songs when writing this chapter so it might not fully flow nicely because I was just ALL UP IN MY FEELINGS. 
> 
> Also I'm struggling to figure out if I've underdeveloped Carlisle and Esme's relationship and relied too much on the "love at first sight" type thing so I may have another filler chapter after this one focused on that before the wedding but I make no promises teehee. Maybe less is more? I'd be keen to know your thoughts, whether the telling thusfar makes you believe in their love, or is just....... so-so? Your input is always appreciates and I thank you again for your support! Oh and another thing I really love the relationship between Esme and Edward. I think Edward was one of the great loves of Esme's life, as her first (vampire) child and being as incredible as he is (I'm neutral with Bella but I can imagine being in Esme's shoes and loving him unconditionally as a familial figure). Carlisle is her soulmate, but I hope to never downplay how much Edward and Esme also love and adore each other.

They wanted to make it easy for Edward to find them. That’s why they hadn’t moved far from where he had left them. They always hoped he would return. It was the only house on a high, wild spot, and the snow that blanketed it glittered in the winter sun. Sundays were always lazy in the Cullen house - Esme and Carlisle went to church in the morning and often went hunting in the afternoon, close to the house so they didn’t have to wander far. Neither of them had much felt like going today, and so Esme had settled in front of her canvas - she had taken to watercolours recently and it was comforting in its gentleness - whilst Carlisle had taken to the piano. They sat in companionable quiet, the only sound being the quiet plinks of the keys as Carlisle practiced scales and Esme glided her brush over the canvas. 

She was washing her brushes in the kitchen sink when he appeared. 

“Edward!” she cried, and she knew he would hear, even though he was still a mile out. In less than a second she had burst through the side door and she threw herself over the rocks and crags surrounding the mountain ledge, thick clouds of snow exploding around her. She couldn’t get to him fast enough. His amber eyes watched her apprehensively and she didn’t care what colour they were. 

Carlisle sprinted after her, the snowflakes she sent into the air swirling around him as he tried to catch up. 

Esme couldn’t keep the overwhelming joy from her voice when she shouted to him again. “Edward!” 

He stood firm when she collided with her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close and kissing whatever part of his face and neck she could reach.  _ Please don’t go away again!  _

Less than a second later, Carlisle was with them and his strong arms embraced them both, holding them tightly together. 

“Carlisle… Esme…” Edward’s voice was hoarse, tortured. “I’m so sorry, I’m so-”

“Shh, now.” Esme tucked her head into his neck and gripped him harder still.  _ My boy, you’re home. _

Slowly, as if he could not believe the welcome he received, he raised his arms and returned his parents’ embrace. 

They stayed like that for a while, silently enjoying the feeling of family again. And then slowly, at almost a human speed, they turned together and made their way back to the lonely house on the hill. 

“You don’t have any bags,” Esme asked. Edward walked between his parents, his left arm around Carlisle’s shoulders and his right hand in Esme’s. 

He shook his head stiffly. He was nervous. “No. I… travel light.”

Carlisle smiled at him, his own arm around Edward’s waist. “We kept your clothes; they’re in storage but we can fetch them quickly enough.” 

“You didn’t have to keep them, I’m… I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Esme soothed, and she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. “We always knew you would come home.” 

Silence fell between them again, and whilst it was comfortable for the most part, they could all feel thousands of unspoken words hanging in the air. Esme was first through the back door and she took Edward’s coat and hat from him and hung them up, just like the old days. Carlisle took off the house slippers he hadn’t thought to remove before crashing through the drifts, and now all three of them were in the warm house the snow on their clothes began to melt away. 

“I think we’d all better change,” Esme said brightly as cold water dripped from her skirt onto the flagstone floor of the kitchen. She turned to Edward and squeezed his hand again. “Take your time to get settled. There’s a room upstairs we arranged for when you came home. I hope you like it.” 

Edward looked so pained. He wrapped his arms around Esme and buried his face into her hair. “I’m so sorry, Esme, I don’t deserve either of you.” 

“Shh,” she soothed quietly. Carlisle stood beside them and rubbed Edward’s back as Esme stroked his hair. He was quiet, but his breathing was uneven and heavy. “It’s alright, my darling, you’re home. We’ve got you. Shh.” 

When he pulled away again, he turned to Carlisle but couldn’t meet his eyes. Carlisle rested his palm on Edward’s cheek. “Look at me, son.” 

Edward reached out and clung onto Esme’s hand as he slowly brought his gaze up to his father. Carlisle met him with nothing but kindness. 

“You have nothing to apologise for.  _ Nothing. _ You’re home.” 

“I’ve done awful things, Carlisle, I… they were awful.” 

“I can see the change in your eyes.” Edward opened his mouth to interrupt but Carlisle smiled and didn’t let him. “They’re changing back to yellow, they’ll be back to normal soon. You’re doing so well, Edward, I’m so proud of you.”

Edward looked down again, his expression pained. 

“Come,” Esme said quietly, and when she led him from the kitchen down the corridor and to the foot of the stairs, he followed. She pointed out the rooms as they went, and he nodded now and again. He looked miserable. Perhaps it was the guilt. 

“I’m glad to be back,” he murmured in answer to her silent thoughts. On the wall along the stairs hung some of Esme’s oil paintings. One of Carlisle, one of the sisters, one of Carmen and Eleazar, one of Edward. He flinched away from it as they passed. “I don’t deserve this.” 

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “You deserve the world, Edward. You came home, that’s all that matters. Whatever else happened, you came home.” 

“Like the prodigal son,” he answered bitterly, but when he looked at her there was no malice in his eyes.

“Yes,” Esme laughed softly. “And you too deserve celebrations at your return. Like him, you were lost and now you’re found.” 

Despite the pain that was so evident in him, Edward couldn’t help but smile. He rested his forehead against Esme’s and sighed. “I was so lost, without you, Esme. Both of you.” 

She smiled and closed her eyes, stroking his bronze hair. “Come on, my darling. You’ll feel better once you’re washed and in fresh clothes.” 

They stood at the top of the stairs and she led him to the right where a bright room faced north at the end of the corridor. Inside were all of the possessions he had left at the old house, and Esme and Carlisle had set out the room as closely to the old one as they could, in the hope that he would come back. Esme left Edward there to quickly change and Carlisle did the same - she hated to leave the floors dirty and wet - and then he lifted her in the hallway to open the loft hatch. Gracefully she hopped up and found the bags and boxes of Edward’s clothes and she passed them down to Carlisle one by one. Thanks to the absence of human skin, they had a lot less dust to contend with than mortals. 

Edward murmured his thanks, seemingly overwhelmed, and he shut the bedroom door to collect himself in as much privacy as Esme and Carlisle could afford him. Neither of them really knew what to do with themselves while they waited for him. They stood awkwardly in the hallway for a moment, before breaking the silence at the same time. 

“Should we-”

“Let’s go down-” 

They both laughed - barely able to contain their elation - and Carlisle extended his hand to indicate she should speak first. 

“Let’s go back down,” she said with a smile. He nodded and they returned to the lounge. At a human speed, Carlisle began to clear away his music books and pages of notes, and Esme wandered to the kitchen to finish cleaning her brushes. A while later, Carlisle brought her dirty palettes and she cleaned them too while Carlisle mopped the water they had trailed into the house. The floorboards stained dark were so pretty, both of them liked to keep them clean. 

It felt rude to talk about Edward while he wasn’t there but could hear them and it was something the pair of them both felt but didn’t need to say aloud. Once they had nothing else to do, they sat side by side, not touching, on the couch. Outside, clouds began to drift lazily across the sky and the sun was hidden now and again. THey glanced at each other now and again and smiled every time they caught the other’s eye. So much to say, and no words to say it. 

It took a long time for Edward to join them. He took his time bathing and changing and unpacking his clothes, but Esme couldn’t blame him. Whatever he had been through, this was surely an enormous shock to the system. He would take however much time he wanted, so long as he didn’t go away again. When he did come downstairs, he looked less miserable but more nervous. But he had combed his hair flat and had on his tie and waistcoat and jacket, and his old pair of house slippers. He looked very nice, very Edward. 

He smiled weakly at the tenor of Esme’s thoughts. I’ve missed your company in my mind. 

He crossed the living room and sat in Carlisle’s favourite leather chair that came with them to every house. Looking around the room, he seemed… satisfied. “It looks a lot like the old Calgary house.” 

“Yes, we liked that one so much we tried to keep as much of it with us in this one.” Carlisle smiled at Esme and then Edward. “But this was a renovation so it was somewhat more difficult to do than building it from the ground up.”

“Carlisle let me have a lot of control over the design,” Esme added. 

“You’re developing quite the knack for this sort of thing.” 

“That’s what I think, too,” Carlisle agreed, and both of the men’s expressions softened when they looked at her. 

“Do you like your room?” Esme asked. 

Edward nodded. “Yes, thank you. And… thank you for saving all of my things.” 

“Of course. Always.” 

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve taken up your piano as of late,” Carlisle remarked. 

“Of course not. You bought it for me, anyway. You bought all of my things.” 

Carlisle was still smiling but a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “They’re yours, Edward. My home, your home. My money, your money. That’s how it’s always been and how it always will be.” 

It looked like Edward was going to disagree, but he stopped himself and took a breath. Then he smiled weakly. “Thank you, Carlisle. I don’t…” He sighed. “I don’t deserve the love you show me. Both of you.” 

“You do deserve love,” Esme told him gently. “I will spend the rest of my life making you believe that, if that is what it takes.” 

“You might not want to once I tell you what I’ve done.” 

“My darling, nothing you have done will change how I love you.” 

Edward ran his fingers on the arm of the leather chair and traced a circle on the dark material. “I need to tell you both something that I should have told you a long time ago. But I don’t know how to even begin.” 

“You don’t need to say anything that you’re not ready to,” Carlisle assured him. Edward still couldn’t look at him for more than a second at a time. It was like he was too ashamed to. 

“It’s not that I’m not ready, I just… the right words won’t come to me.” 

“Then use the wrong words,” Esme encouraged. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Silence fell over the group as Edward struggled to do as she asked. A few times he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed it again like he had thought better. Eventually, he found his courage. “I think you know why I was away. I was trying something.” He sighed to even his accelerated breathing.

Esme couldn’t stand how agonised he looked. She held out her hand to call him over, and after some hesitation, he heeded her call. The sofa wasn’t small, but with him now sat between his parents, it was a bit of a squeeze. Esme and Carlisle were glad to feel their son wedged between them, though, and the physical contact it created seemed to relax Edward. He was safe here, nestled between the two people who loved him best in this world. 

Now he was closer to them and enveloped in their warmth, Edward seemed to find his words more easily. “It’s difficult to know yet if I completely regret how I have lived these past few years. I was not proud of what I did, but I think I have saved more innocent lives than I have taken. Those I chose to feed on were… they were monsters. Men who preyed on others; on other men, on women, on children-” 

Esme squeezed his hand. Whilst death was nothing to wish upon anyone, there were always those who committed crimes and evaded the law. His victims sounded like they deserved punishment. 

“I didn’t do it to punish them,” he continued, hearing her thought. “Merely to remove them from society, and with them, the threat they posed. I always hunted men who were guilty, and it was always quick and painless.” He sighed again. “Aside from the one exception.”

She couldn’t see Carlisle on Edward’s other side but she reached out behind her son to touch Carlisle out of instinct. Other than that, she was frozen. Carlisle took her hand and squeezed. 

“One exception?” Carlisle echoed. 

“Esme, I know you didn’t want… I know you feared… but he wasn’t the only one. I would have taken this path with or without him and so… I would have been damned regardless, and I-” Edward cut himself off. Sat between Esme and Carlisle made it difficult for him to look at either one of them, and so he stared at the wall opposite them instead. “He’s dead. I killed him first.” 

Although she had already connected the dots, hearing Edward say it aloud made Esme gasp very slightly. A hitch in breath. A catch in her throat. Every day that passed left her memories of Charles Evenson more blurred, darker and more easily forgotten, but the scars they left were still deep in her soul, entrenched there. “When?” 

“As soon as I left. It took me a few weeks to track him down, though. And I… took my time with him.” 

“Four years?” The question whooshed from her like she had been winded. “You killed him four years ago?” 

Edward closed his eyes. “Yes.” 

She didn’t know how to feel. It was like when she had been turned, and when she had learned that she would never be a mother. It was always difficult to comprehend information that changed her relationship with reality. The reality now was that Charles Evenson was dead. 

She couldn’t bring herself to ask the next question aloud.  _ Did you feed on him?  _

“Yes.” 

Being angry was not in Esme’s nature. And she knew she should be happy, but how could she be, when she had driven Edward to such violence? 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Edward answered her thoughts quietly. “As I said, I would have gone down this path anyway. And it was his fault. I couldn’t bear for him to walk the earth any longer.” 

Carlisle squeezed Esme’s hand behind Edward’s back. 

After a long moment of silence, Edward spoke again. “Esme, please forgive me.” 

Letting go of Carlisle’s hand, she brought it up to Edward’s hair and smiled kindly at him. “There’s nothing to forgive.” 

“I ignored your wishes when you asked me not to go after him. I’m sorry to have done that.” 

“I don’t command you, Edward, I’m not your master. You can do as you please, I won’t ever try to stop you from doing what you want to do.” 

His eyes were begging. “Please, Esme. Please forgive me.” 

She could see the honesty and the pain in his face. This was torturing him. It wasn’t forgiveness that he was truly seeking. He asked for absolution. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at her son again. She nodded. “I forgive you, my darling. For everything. And I will never command you to do anything, but I do ask of you one thing.” 

“Anything.” 

She bit her lip and searched Edward’s face. It was impossible to know if she wanted to laugh in delight or weep in sorrow. “Please don’t ever leave like that again.”  _ I lost one son forever. I can’t lose you. Neither of us can.  _

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head. “I promise you, I will never leave you again. I’ll be with you forever, unless you send me away.” 

“Never.” 

The three of them sat like that for a long while. That was all that Edward and Esme needed to say, really. Edward was home and he was sorry for going and he was sorry for killing, and she understood. Without him even needing to explain why he left, she already understood. He was a young spirit who wanted to try his hand at a different life and it hadn’t been for him, that was all there was at the end of it all. He didn’t need to put it into words, and neither did she. Without a conversation about it, Edward and Esme had a perfect understanding. That’s how it would always be for them. 

“I think I’ll go for a drive,” Esme said after a time. She kissed Edward’s temple and stood, and he caught her hand. 

“You don’t need to leave.” 

She smiled warmly. “I know.” She looked between the two men she loved, eyes lingering longest on Carlisle’s face. “I’ll be a few hours, that’s all.” You two must talk alone. 

“If you’re sure?” 

Nodding, she looked back at Edward and squeezed his hand. “As long as you’re here when I get back.” 

He managed to crack a smile at that. “I promise.” 

“Good.” 

“Would you like me to start the car for you?” Carlisle asked. It was a tricky machine that she didn’t often use and he knew its quirks better than her. Mostly because she didn’t have the interest in learning. Machines didn’t hold much of her attention. 

“That would be very kind, thank you,” she replied. Carlisle followed her into the hallway and headed to the garage as she gathered her coat and hat and scarf. It was still sunny outside and she would need to bundle up in case she caught the sun through the window. Edward leaned on the doorframe of the living room and watched her. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

She paused buttoning up her coat and smiled warmly. “Thank  _ you. _ For coming home.”

“You make it a home worth coming back to.” Edward wrapped her in another tight hug and she laughed lightly, holding him close. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry for hurting you.” 

“I know. It’s alright, my darling, it’s alright. I’m so happy you’re back, and that’s all that matters.” 

He broke away and took the hat from her hands and pulled it carefully onto her head. With a gentle hand he pushed the curls away from her face and cupped her cheeks. “Thank you for loving me so much, Esme. I know I never said it before, but I… I had a great deal of time to think on it, and I would like to say it. My natural mother was always good to me and I loved her deeply. I love you just the same now. I do… I do think of you as… well, you  _ are _ my mother. You will always be my mother, Esme.” 

“Oh, my darling.” She looked up at him with shining eyes. “And you will always be my son.” She was quite choked up. “I’ll be home soon. Talk with him honestly. There’s nothing to fear.” 

There was remorse in his amber eyes but he nodded and kissed her cheek. “I hope you’re right.” 

In the garage across the yard the engine roared into life. The accelerator was tapped and the engine spluttered dead and they could hear Carlisle chuckle. Cars didn’t like the cold, apparently. It would take a while to warm up enough to drive. Wrapped up in her coat and hat, Esme darted out of the back door and out to the garage to find the man and machine. She stood at the open garage door and watched him through the windshield. He turned the key again and again and eventually the car choked back to life. He grinned when the engine roared. Leaving the key in and the engine running to warm up, Carlisle got out of the car and flitted to her side. 

Butterflies were in her stomach. He was in reaching distance of her and she was close to losing her nerve. His smile was so bright, his face so kind, and there was such intensity in his golden eyes that Esme was sure the world had stopped turning. Joy radiated from him. 

“He’s home,” she breathed. 

“Yes,” came his quiet reply. He was giddy with joy. 

“He’s really here!”

“He is!” 

The delight between them overflowed and suddenly she was in his arms and he caught her and lifted her and spun around and they were laughing and weeping tearlessly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and even when he stopped spinning he did not put her down. He kissed her hard, once, twice, and she beamed against his lips. 

“How did I get so lucky?” Carlisle asked breathlessly. His happiness was like a symphony from the heavens and he shone with light. “To be with two such as you?” 

“The luck is all ours,” she whispered. Their noses gently bumped and she caught his lips in a softer kiss. Their first kisses in years. He tasted like sunlight. “We get you.” Carlisle set her back on her feet but she kept her arms around his neck and he would never want to pull away from that. “What will you say to him?” 

Edward would be able to hear them even though they spoke softly together. There was no need to lie. 

“That I’m glad he’s home. That his choice to come back to this life is the one that matters, not the choices made before.” 

“He will want your forgiveness, Carlisle.”

“Forgiveness is not mine to give.” 

She smiled and stroked the hairs at the back of his neck. The car next to them sat in neutral and slowly grew louder as it warmed up. “Your forgiveness means everything to us. It’s not just forgiveness, it’s… it’s liberation, it’s redemption, it’s… it’s  _ deliverance,  _ Carlisle.” 

“You think too highly of me.” 

“No, we don’t,” she insisted, her smile so wide. “And even if we did, this is how we do feel. You must remember that when Edward bears himself to you, which he will. If he asks for your forgiveness, you must give it, even if you don’t think it’s yours to give, because in his mind it is yours to give.” 

Carlisle’s eyes drifted to her lips and he bit his own. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down to catch her lips again but she turned so he caught her cheek. He sighed through his nose and she laughed lightly. “Carlisle, please! I mean it.” 

When he looked at her again, Esme was almost overwhelmed by the love in his eyes. “You are wise beyond your years.” 

She laughed. “I don’t think I am, but I think I understand the men with whom I share my life. I understand  _ you.” I  _ _ love _ _ you.  _

“Better than I understand myself.” 

“That’s what I often think about you, too.” 

The car was louder than ever now and Esme reluctantly let Carlisle go. Their fingers were linked until she was in the driver’s seat and she pulled on her driving gloves. Stony, cold hands slipped on the hard leather of the wheel more often than not. She looked at him and was struck by his beauty. An angel, surely, was he. Fair and kind, beautiful and compassionate, strong and wise. She wanted to make him hers. 

“Please be as kind to yourself as you will be to him.” 

He smiled and bent down to kiss her cheek, and her hat came askew. He set it right. “I promise.” 

“I’ll be home soon. A few hours. Unless the car gives out.” 

“It won’t give out,” he assured her gently. 

“I trust you.” 

He closed the door and she pressed the clutch down and shifted into first. 

“Come home soon,” he mouthed, and he smiled. She blew him a kiss and beamed as she carefully balanced the accelerator and clutch and pulled out of the garage. The car maneuvered the bend around the yard and down the winding drive, and she took it slow down the dips and bends of the miles to the main road. _ Be kind to yourself,  _ she thought to Edward as she watched the house shrink in her rear view mirror. _ Please don’t torture yourself for what you are sorry for. Talk honestly with Carlisle and talk honestly with God. It’s alright to find peace.  _

Once she was on the main road she sped up but took it carefully with corners, given the ice on the road. Carlisle liked to go fast but she didn’t trust herself in the harsh Canadian winters, especially not in such expensive automobiles as the ones Carlisle favoured. 

Carlisle. He was central to her thoughts now more than ever. Edward was home and that meant their family was whole again. The difficulties and heartaches they had faced with him gone would soon be healed, once they learned what it was like to be together again. That would take a while, but of course Esme knew that was to be expected. It couldn’t be like before, but that was not a bad thing. 

And she was free. Selflessly - or selfishly - Edward had acted in removing  _ that man _ from the face of this earth and sent him straight to Hell. Maybe when the end of days came, when time was ended and Esme saw the breaking of the world, she would stand before God and face the Final Judgment, and she, too, would be sent to the fires below. Maybe she would be sent to join him. But that was not now. Now was time for living with those she loved. And, God, how she loved. She wanted him. She could claim him. She would be his, and Carlisle would be hers. 


	17. Questions of Great Importance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, the place described is Banff National Park in Canada. I've been in love with it for years and I genuinely think it's one of the most beautiful places in the world. 
> 
> My dearest Chase has assured me that this doesn't feel out of character, but if you do get further in and feel that it is, please let me know. Like many others who have written them, I think it's difficult to make more out of Carlisle than just being this kind, compassionate, and stoic leader, and Esme more than this perfect and kind mother. Like he's 23 and she's 26. Let them be young and carefree! 
> 
> As per usual, thank you so so so so so much for all of your support and input. You folks are the best <3

It was poor timing that Carlisle was called away for work the next week. One of his colleagues from the hospital had moved back to the States to be with his family, and had come across a rare illness that Carlisle had helped to treat before, and he asked him to come down as a matter of emergency. Edward and Esme had encouraged him to go. It was nice to have time alone, anyway, and they took the time to reconnect. It was easier if Edward kept out of sight to avoid any questions from the local community about the young man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, so they spent a lot of time in the warm house. The world outside remained frozen, the promise of a spring thaw still months away. 

Carlisle was back in a fortnight with good news. Esme met him on the front porch as the taxi cab dropped him off, and she ran into his open arms. Edward came out once the taxi had pulled out of sight and they embraced. He took his father’s bags and they walked into the warm house together. Esme took Carlisle’s hat and coat and hung them up and he removed his shoes and put on his house slippers. 

It felt very domestic. Very normal. Esme felt almost human. Her heart was light. 

“How did the treatment go?” Edward asked as they settled in their usual seats in the lounge and the small talk about his journey was over. Esme had her window seat, Carlisle had his leather chair, and Edward sprawled out on the soft couch. 

Carlisle was visibly relaxing, and he ran a hand through his light hair, scratching his scalp. His eyes were almost black and purple rings were under them. He looked very tired, but his smile was soft. “It went well. The patient is out of the woods, but recovery will be months. John has stayed with her and he wants to keep a close eye on her. I think he hopes to make a case study of her, he’s been itching to get published again.” 

John was the doctor that had called for Carlisle’s help. It was a miracle that his letter had found its way to Carlisle given that they had not used the Cullen name since leaving Calgary, but he was used to keeping track of correspondence after moves. It was essential, after all, and he involved Esme as much as possible with keeping tabs on the past whilst keeping it hidden. 

“He’s actually asked me to go back in a few weeks.” Carlisle looked hesitant. 

“Oh?” Esme pressed. 

“There will be a position at the hospital available there soon. One of the orthopedists is moving West, and he wants me to take it.” 

“Is he in a position to make that offer?” 

Carlisle smiled at Esme. “No, he is not. But his father-in-law is on the board and I was coerced into meeting with him, and he liked me.” 

“You are a generalist here though, are you not? Are you able to take that role?”

“I worked as an orthopedic surgeon for a while before the Pandemic, but there was more need for help with that. I know enough that I could go back to it without much trouble.” 

“Wouldn’t that be very boring, though?” Edward interjected. “Just replacing old codgers’ hips and knees all day every day? Where’s the excitement in that?” 

Esme couldn’t stop herself from laughing and Carlisle grinned at his son. “Who taught you to speak about your elders like that?” 

“No one, I came up with it all on my own. Do you approve, old man?” 

Carlisle shoved Edward’s feet on the sofa and Edward threw a cushion at him in response. “Not in the slightest. But you do have a point, as disrespectfully as you worded it.” Edward laughed. “It would be mostly routine surgeries that could be done by any other skilled professional. I’m not sure how fulfilling it would be there, but John did mention the university was keen to keep close ties to the hospital. It’s an excellent institution for research, and their medical department is of interest.”

“So you could go into teaching?” Esme asked. 

He nodded. “I am tempted. But it’s a decision we should make together.” 

“We’ll have to leave here sooner rather than later,” Edward mused. He caught the cushion that Carlisle tossed back at him and began tracing the buttons sewn onto it absentmindedly. “Unless I continue to hide in the house all day. Why not Rochester? It’s as good as anywhere.” 

Carlisle was watching her and he cocked his head to the side in question. “Esme?” 

“Rochester is quite a large city, isn’t it?” she asked, feeling a little nervous. “Where would we live?” She could be around humans, but she wasn’t ready to live somewhere that the beating heart of her would-be-prey surrounded her day and night.

“Yes, quite large. Perhaps you and Edward could take up residence beyond the suburbs and I can have a flat in the city, close to the hospital? At least then my colleagues wouldn’t think ill of me for living with a lady who was not my wife.” 

“Won’t we go with the siblings story in Rochester?” Edward asked. “I like being Esme’s little brother.” He threw her a grin and she gave him a fond smile. But she bit the inside of her cheek nervously when she looked back at Carlisle. They hadn’t talked about where they stood with their relationship yet. 

“I… I didn’t want to assume… I-?” Carlisle looked helplessly at Esme when words failed him. He was suddenly very awkward and Esme found herself laughing silently. 

“I think you and I can stay siblings, Edward,” she agreed, unable to stop smiling. “Carlisle can be… well, we don’t have to decide anything tonight.” 

Shooting a look between them, it seemed to dawn on Edward what remained unspoken. It didn’t seem to irritate him, though, and he just let it go. Maybe he hoped that the adults would work it out between themselves. Esme hoped that, too. 

* * *

After months of phone calls and telegrams, a decision came with the thaw. A lot of work had to go into their preparation to leave for Rochester, New York, including new papers for all three of them which allowed Esme and Carlisle to use their real names, and for Edward to take Esme’s surname of Platt. Edward had a new high school diploma, and Carlisle’s new birth certificate put his birth a few years later, not enough for his friend to notice, but enough to buy him a few years in their new place. He’d had to go to New York to meet his associate for the papers, and while he was out there, he found himself a nice third storey flat downtown, and a house a dozen miles out that was hidden in woodland away from roads and disturbances. Their associate promised to ready the Rochester house for Esme and Edward’s arrival with all modern commodities for a fee that Carlisle was more than happy to pay. Their new address had been forwarded to their family up north, and the final goodbyes had been made at the hospital Carlisle had called home these past few years. The staff there easily believed that he and his ‘sister’ Esme had chosen to move to England, and there was no risk of anyone there following up. He would be missed for a while, but like everywhere else, eventually, he would be forgotten.

Esme found some beauty in that. They could live among humans on borrowed time, and when they had to give their time back, life went on. It was how life should be. 

But over the months they lived on eggshells. Since Edward had returned their house had been so happy, but the unspoken was deafening. They were all waiting for someone to address it, but no one seemed quite brave enough. It was like an open-ended hope, that, so long as the question was never asked, the answer could be anything. The hope of happiness in the unknown was somehow more comforting than the reality, for neither Carlisle nor Esme seemed to be sure of the other now, and in asking that question, they risked the answer cutting off hope. What if they brought up the subject of marriage, and the other had changed their mind? 

It was Monday the 29th April 1929 and it was a warm day. Enormous white clouds drifted lazily across the sky that was otherwise a brilliant blue. Carlisle had finished his last shift that night and they were due to leave for Rochester in three days. When Carlisle had asked Esme to take a drive with him she had agreed without hesitation, and butterflies were in her stomach. 

They drove for more than an hour headed west, and Carlisle held Esme’s hand in her lap the whole way. The mountain range loomed in front of them, snowcapped peaks stretching up to the blue above. Against the harsh grey of the mountains, the whole array of greens of grasses and trees and flora were captivating, and Esme breathed in the crisp air again and again and again. 

Eventually Carlisle turned the car down a quiet road that had a few nice houses and he parked barely out of sight of the road. “It’s on foot from here, I’m afraid.” 

She smiled and nodded, and with no one around to see, Carlisle flitted out of the car and to her door to hold it open for her. Taking the hand he gallantly held out, Esme slipped out of the car and smoothed down her pretty blue coat, lighter than the sky, and touched her hat to make sure it had not fallen out of place. Habitually she had brought her gloves but when Carlisle linked his fingers through hers, she left them in the car. 

“Would you mind if we ran?” he asked. “It’s a bit of a way, and I wouldn’t want your hat to get lost.” 

“That’s a good idea.” Esme’s voice was light and she felt happy. Her breath caught in her throat when Carlisle’s hand left hers and instead, strong, slender fingers came up to her neck and began unbuttoning her coat. She watched him with wide, golden eyes but he kept his gaze fixed on his hands. Once it was unfastened, Carlisle stood behind her and slipped her coat from her shoulders and folded it over his arm. With a delicate touch, he carefully unpinned the matching hat from her hair and set them in the backseat. If her heart still beat, it would be in overdrive. 

It was much easier to run without having to worry about a coat. Besides, coats were only for public appearance, and there wasn’t anyone around now. She was left in her pretty cream dress, skirt full and swinging below her knees in the wind, and turned to him. His grey coat matched hers nicely and would be better left in the car. He looked shy when she returned the favour and unbuttoned it for him, and folded it next to hers in the backseat. She took off his jacket, too, leaving him with just his waistcoat over his shirt. He had already rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. It made his forearms look so strong. She loved how he looked like that. His shirt was blue, her favourite colour. 

“How far are we going?” she asked as he closed the car doors and locked it. The keys were slipped into his trouser pocket and he smiled as he took her hand. They started off with a gentle jog through the thick fir trees and the ground beneath them rose. 

“Only a few miles, but it’s treacherous to run through,” he laughed, having to duck to avoid branches already. 

“Have you been this way before?” 

“No, but Edward has, and he recommended this spot. I wanted to see it with you before we left.” 

“Why this spot in particular?” This corner of the world was the most beautiful that Esme had ever seen. Mountains and lakes and meadows and plains, it felt like God’s greatest visions had come to life here. “When everywhere is so wonderful?” 

“Edward said it’s the most beautiful sight he has ever witnessed.” Carlisle ducked again and Esme laughed when leaves caught in his hair. He shook them out as they sped up and she reached over to comb through his hair as easily as if they were standing still. “He gave quite the detailed description and I had to see it for myself.” 

“He has a way with words,” Esme remarked happily. “He gets it from his father.” 

Carlisle laughed. “He gets it from his books and poems, just as I do!” 

“What did he say about this particular place?” 

“Would you mind if I kept it a surprise?” 

“Of course not! But how will I know that we have found it, if I don’t know what I am looking for?” 

He laughed again. “From what Edward has told me, it would be impossible to miss.” 

They ran for a while longer, continuing to climb upwards until they had to scramble with their hands as well as their feet. Esme loved how the rock of the mountain snapped to dust in her fingers, she felt so strong. Carlisle raced her and beat her but only barely, and when they finally reached the top, he hung above her to stop her from looking over the edge. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked. 

“Why are you asking me now?” she replied coyly. His muscles strained under his shirt and waistcoat and, although she was dangling atop a rocky mountain edge, she was sinfully distracted. 

“Will you close your eyes and let me carry you the rest of the way?” 

She looked up at him with bright eyes, and when he held out a hand, the rest of the world melted away. The mountains and skies were gone, the trees and the winds, and it was just him, the shining sun, offering his hand. She nodded. 

When she clasped his hand, she closed her eyes and let him sweep her onto his back. She locked her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist and it felt so good, so safe, to have him in her embrace like this. When he had wept for Edward years ago she had held him similarly, but this was different. This was exhilarating. Carlisle launched himself with ease the final few yards to the jagged top and she gasped when suddenly they were flying. In pure joy, Carlisle had thrown himself over the edge and down the other side and he whooped loudly and cried out in delight. Her eyes still clamped shut, she laughed as happiness filled her so fully she thought she would explode from it all. After what felt like a heartbeat and a lifetime, Carlisle’s body slammed back in contact with the mountainside and he grasped Esme’s legs tight to make sure she didn’t fall off as he skidded on his side down the rocky edge. Snow was still around the tops of the mountains and it was soft as they ploughed through and she felt it jam in her hair and push the pins free, the wind whipping it out too. Surely her dress would be ruined! 

As if he heard her thoughts, Carlisle was back to running on his feet and leaping from ledge to ledge, ever downward. Firm hands gripped her thighs to keep her tight to him. 

“Are you alright, Esme?” he called gleefully as he landed and lept again. The air was easier to breathe again, and the temperature was rising but they were still moving at high speeds. They must almost be at the bottom now. 

“Never better!” she gasped breathlessly, laughter in her voice. 

“Eyes still closed?” 

“Tight!”

“Good girl!” 

She squirmed against him at that and her thighs tensed and she laughed again when he flew through the air a final time and slammed down into a landing. The whizzing of the air around them stopped and everything was suddenly very still. She buried her face into his neck just as the clouds parted and it warmed them both. Under her eyelids she could see the dazzling diamonds of his skin. She breathed in deeply and beyond his scent she could smell pines, rock, snow, grass, flowers, spring breezes and sunshine. His hands came away from her legs and tentatively she set herself back on the ground. Eyes still tight shut, she let go of him but ran her fingers down his arm and it was calming to have her hand in his. He squeezed her hand and carefully positioned her in front of him. Esme leaned back against his chest and he bent slightly to whisper against her ear. 

“Open your eyes, Esme.” 

They were on a small rocky ledge two thirds of the way down the mountainside, looking out across the valley. All around them snowy peaks rose to the heavens as far as the eye could see, and between here and there was paradise. A glimmering lake, unfathomably large, lay at the bottom of the valley, as blue as the brightest sky and reflecting the clouds above as clear as a mirror. Whilst mountainsides ran down to the water’s edge on one side, on the other there was a grassy, sloping plain swollen with tall firs for miles and miles. Life teemed in the valley, millions of little lives playing out below them in the early days of spring. 

Esme was stunned. Carlisle was silent, too. They drank in the sight before them, unable to look away. She leaned heavily back against him and he wound his arms around her, holding her close. 

“I think we’ve found it,” Esme breathed after a long silence between them. “The Garden of Eden.” 

Carlisle sighed happily through his nose and rested her cheek against her hair. “You may be right.” 

In the distance, two eagles sprang from a treetop and swooped up into the air. “Look!” Esme called out in delight, and she pointed out to them. Carlisle followed her finger and saw them too, and he smiled at how pleased she was. “How beautiful!” 

They enjoyed the view for a long time and pointed out things as they saw them - a family of bears meandering from the forest to drink from the lake, the pair of bald eagles flying across the valley in search of food, bighorn sheep trotting up the mountainside, and even a small herd of elk crossed down below them. Hand in hand they wandered from the rocky edge to the greener pastures below, and Esme pulled him gently to a thick patch of grass that was dotted with wildflowers. She sat down, her billowy skirt spread around her, and he sat close by. They were facing each other almost, as if neither could consciously bear to lose sight of the other. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Esme said after a while. Her soul felt light here with him. 

“Thank you for coming,” he replied gently. 

“When did Edward tell you about this place?” 

“Only a few weeks ago. He said the snows were only just creeping back then, hence the wait until now. I think we have timed this excellently.” 

Esme smiled. “Absolutely. They’re just far back enough to appreciate without making the grass wet.”

Carlisle nodded in agreement, and Esme glanced over his shoulder at the view again. Talking to Carlisle always felt nice, even if it was the most mundane subject. 

“Will it be much warmer in Rochester?”

“It should be. They have harsh winters there, too, but they last much less time than here. It will be much like Ohio weather, I should think.” 

“But with fewer twisters?”

Carlisle chuckled. “Yes, fewer twisters.” 

“I’m glad we’re moving somewhere new. There’s somewhat of a comfort in big cities, don’t you think? You can be anybody - or nobody - there. But I suppose,” she added with a smile, “you will always have to be  _ somebody.” _

“You will always be you, Esme, no matter the city.” 

“Oh, I know. I’m glad for that, you know?”

Carlisle cocked his head to the side and watched her, his full attention on her entirely. 

She would have blushed under his attention in another life, but in this one it made her smile. “For a long time, I was so sad. I didn’t want to be myself. And I was running and running and running. It was very difficult to try to escape from myself. I’d been told for so long that the person in the mirror was not one to be proud of that I thought I could leave her behind and be someone new.” 

Carlisle took her hand in both of his and kissed it gently. He did not interrupt her. 

“But there was nothing wrong with me, was there? It wasn’t myself that I wanted to escape, not really.” She stopped herself suddenly and laughed lightly. “I’m sorry, I’m not making much sense, am I?” 

Carlisle did not laugh but there was compassion in his young face. “Please do not doubt yourself. You are making yourself clear. You believed a lie you were told about yourself, and you believe it no longer. It was the lie from which you ran, and the lie from which you are now liberated.” 

Esme’s smile was soft. She touched his face, cupping his cheek in her palm, and he leaned into her touch. “Thank you.” 

"For what?” 

“For seeing me. And understanding me.” There was a lump in her throat suddenly and she swallowed. “I have never felt so… safe. I’ve never felt so close to someone as I do to you.”

“I think we are cut from the same cloth, you and I,” Carlisle said quietly. “You understand me, too, so completely. Not even Edward- even with his gift, he-! He is wonderful, you know as well as I, but- but you…”

“We understand one another.” Esme stroked his cheek again and he caught her hand. He shifted closer to her on the grass as he guided her hand to where his heart rested silently. 

“Is it just an understanding we share?” 

“We share a home, and a son, and a car.” 

Carlisle couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at her gentle teasing, her smile was so bright. It was not a rebuttal. “The golden thread we share is tighter than ever, Esme.” 

She understood his meaning. The first time he had told her that he loved her, seven years ago, he had said that he felt a thread of gold under his ribs, tied around his heart and reaching out to hers, that it tightened when they were apart until it pained him, until it was an agony in his chest. Only when they were together was it eased. She felt it too. It pulled her to him every day; where he went, she followed, and where she went, he was not far behind. When one moved so did the other, like magnets, like gravity. Too long had they resisted. 

For the first time since she had first loved him, Esme was free. She was good, and she was free. Her eyes, like the thread, shone gold. “It is.” 

“Do you still love me like you did the first time you told me?” 

She bit her lip in a smile and settled her hands in her lap. It was easy to remember what she had told him the first time she had painted him, the day the sisters had arrived. What pain it had caused them then. Perhaps now it would bring them joy. “You are everything,” she said softly. “You are the sun in the morning and the stars at night, you are the light around which my life now revolves. No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” 

Carlisle’s expression was gentle, hopeful. “You said that if you were free to give me your heart, you would. Are you free?” 

Esme forgot how to breathe. “Yes.” 

“Do you love me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Would you like to be my wife?” 

“What?” Esme’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Carlisle shifted onto his knees before where she was sitting. He fumbled with the pocket inside of his waistcoat and pulled out a tiny leather pouch that looked almost like a miniature book, and when he opened it the ring inside danced in the sunlight like their skin. On a thin band of gold, an oval sapphire was set in a cluster of dozens of tiny diamonds. Carlisle watched her adoringly as her eyes went wide and darted between his face and the ring. 

“My darling Esme, I have practiced this speech over and over in my mind, and never have the right words come to me. For how can I express what you mean to me? You are… you are my person. You are my partner, my best friend, my… Esme, you are everything. Without you, I am nothing.” 

“Carlisle, you’re-” Esme was trembling, and she moved to her knees too so they were face to face, her arms on his shoulders, their foreheads together. She was smiling, she would be sobbing if she could be. 

“Please, my love. Marry me?” 

“Yes!” she choked. It didn’t matter now who kissed who first. Esme’s hand wove into the hair at the back of his head when he pressed his lips against hers in triumph, in relief, in absolute devotion, and his arm swept around her back. Carlisle parted his lips and sighed and she could taste him on her tongue. It made her feel dizzy. 

“Will you wear my ring?” he breathed against her skin. 

Esme pulled away slightly, elation clouding every other thought, and she nodded, eyelids heavy from his kiss. She looked at the beautiful ring again and he carefully slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. 

“How did you get it the right size?” she asked breathlessly. It looked so pretty against her skin. 

“I know how your fingers feel in mine. It was easy to find the right size.” 

“How long have you had this?” 

Carlisle smiled and kissed her deeply again. She pressed against him and he had to hold back a groan. Their foreheads pressed together when he broke the kiss reluctantly. “A week before the sisters arrived.”

_“Years?”_

He nodded. “I always knew. The first time I held you and I kissed you, I told you that we both knew how it ended. But I was wrong, my darling. This isn’t how it ends.” 

Esme gently pulled him closer again, her hand at the back of his neck. “No, it’s not. This is how it begins.”


	18. Preparing the Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning, this chapter includes discussions of infant death, Christianity, and sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to be the wedding chapter, but I have had a lot of fun with writing the wedding itself so it will be posted as it's own chapter to avoid excessive word counts. Side note, in case anyone was still on tumblr, I have recently made a twilight sideblog where I've started to post some carlesme mini fics, and i've got the carllisle url (I'm tagging my carlesme content though so you can find it there if you're interested). 
> 
> This is a lot more light-hearted than some other chapters, mostly because my favourite sluts are back in town for the wedding <3 also I've gone with a 1930s-style wedding look for Esme, as I cannot bear the shapelessness of 1920s bridal fashion. It's only 1929 but I'm taking liberties luv.

Edward was thrilled that the engagement was finally formal. It made their arrangements in Rochester simpler, too. Esme and Edward would take the house in the woods and pretend to be siblings and Carlisle kept his flat in the city where he would be seen to stay until the wedding. After that, they would sell the flat and he would move to the house. A new city and a new start. 

Esme wanted to get married properly. To her, this meant finding a church that they could join as members, attending services, getting involved in the community, and marrying in the church that they could love and hold dear in their hearts. This, of course, took time. She was flexible in her denomination and although she had the memories of her Methodist upbringing entrenched in her soul, she was happy to find an Episcopal house of worship. Carlisle missed his Anglican roots, and it was as close to the Church of England as they could get on these shores. They found an old church with a huge east window that sparkled with colour every Sunday morning. They attended church every Sunday together for two months before the reading of the banns. Esme found some young women in the congregation were friendly to her, and she was invited to spend time with them during the week. They had a book club that she plucked up the courage to go to, but Edward had to follow her from a distance and listen in to make sure she didn’t lose control. They were both thrilled when it was finished and she had controlled her thoughts and emotions well, and she had stopped any impulse before it even had the chance to take root. 

The evening before the wedding, Carlisle and Esme prayed together. The reverend had led them through the rehearsal and everyone knew their cues and lines, and Esme’s new friends were bustling about the church with an endless stream of floral arrangements but they were quiet about it. Only now and again did they talk to each other in hushed tones about where this piece or the other should go. Esme and Carlisle sat at the end of a pew together in the shadows and no one paid them any mind. It was peaceful in the stone building.

“How are you feeling?” Carlisle asked quietly. They sat close together, almost touching. 

“A little nervous,” Esme admitted. 

“Cold feet?” he asked with a smile. 

“Toasty,” she joked. 

“Are you nervous about the attention that will be on you?” 

Esme nodded. “People stare all the time, but this time they won’t look away when I look back.” 

He smiled again and gently bumped against her. “It won’t be for long. And not many people will be here.” 

Esme laughed quietly. “”Oh, you know what church folk are like. All the old ladies and their husbands will come down to get a good look because what else is there to do on a Thursday evening? And my new friends,” she added in a very low whisper, “they’re lovely, but that is another dozen pairs of eyes on me.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Carlisle agreed in amusement. “But that won’t be for long. After the ceremony, it will just be us and those we love the most.” 

Their northern family had come down for the occasion, of course. The country house had been furnished with them in mind, and so compared to their previous homes there was ample room for Tanya’s coven to stay, and after the evening ceremony they planned to run the short distance to Niagara Falls. Esme had never seen them in person before but there was something about the pictures she had seen of them that just made her want to leap over them. Immortality had made diving and swimming an absolute joy. 

She smiled, looking down at her lap. “And then just us.” 

Carlisle bit the inside of his cheeks in an attempt to stop his enormous grin. They were both a little bashful about it. “Yes, that too.” 

She had agreed to let him arrange the honeymoon as a surprise. She wasn’t even allowed to pack her own bags; that had been left to Edward and Tanya to sort out. The plan was to leave the morning after the wedding, and all Esme knew was that it would involve an aeroplane flight. Carlisle had given her fair warning and she had been practicing being around humans for long periods of time in preparation, and although it had been painful, she found it easier now than ever before. 

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” she asked quietly after a moment of comfortable silence. 

“I never doubted it.” 

“Never?” 

Carlisle squeezed her hand. “I never doubted that you loved me as much as I loved you, even from the start. You love so loudly, Esme. After the first time you told me, that was it for me. Our life was mapped out as clear as day in my mind.” 

Her smile fell at the memory. The first time she had confessed her feelings for him she had spoken of it hypothetically, telling him that if she were free, she would devote herself to him entirely. The agony it had sparked in him was still unpleasant to think about. For a long time the love they shared was painful. But now it wasn’t. “I should have been kinder that day.”

“You  _ were _ kind, Esme. You answered me even though you were afraid. You were  _ kind _ and you were _ brave.” _

“I was careless,” she replied, smiling slightly. “And reckless. But I couldn’t bear not to answer you.” 

He squeezed her hand again. His gaze was turned to the west window. The stained glass was dark now that it was evening, but to their brilliant eyes the pictures there were still clear. Vibrant colours illustrated Easter Week, from Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem to the Resurrection. “That was quite a day, wasn’t it?” 

“That was quite a few  _ weeks,” _ she agreed quietly. “The sisters, Carmen and Eleazar,  _ Edward.” _

The day had started with Esme painting Carlisle on the balcony of the Calgary house. Edward had come home from a run with Tanya and Irina and Kate. A few days later, Esme took her first walk in the human world with Carlisle and Edward at her side, and they had seen a demon from Hell and it had felt like the beginning of the end. In a way, it was. Edward began to pull away. The sisters returned with their covenmates some days later and after a month of them staying at the house, they left and Edward went with them. He ran away. To the gates of Hell, he went, beautiful and terrible, dragging the souls of monsters behind him. From the world he banished evil men, and Charles was the first. A few agonsing years of silence later, he came home, and Esme and Carlisle found themselves sitting here on a pew in a church in Rochester, a ring on her finger and hope in her heart. 

Carlisle sighed quietly, happily. “How quickly life can change. When I think of how many years I spent alone. Hundreds of years. And then in the space of ten, I have been given so much.” He looked down at her and when she met his gaze there were butterflies in his stomach. “I have everything I have ever desired now. I am so,  _ so _ happy.”

Her smile was sweet. “I know.” 

That was satisfying. It was one thing to tell her how he felt, and another to show her. If she knew, then she felt it, and if she felt it, then he was doing something right. “Are you happy, my love?” 

“Do you even need to ask?” 

He laughed softly and kissed her hair. “I like to hear you say it.” 

“Yes, Carlisle, I am happy.” She paused, wondering if now was the right time. Maybe there was never a right time. Taking in a steadying breath helped. The air tasted like stone and dust and wax and flame, cold and hard and comforting. “Is it wrong to still want things, even when life is this bright?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” He squeezed her hand again. He knew what she wanted. “He’s with you, my love. He always will be.” 

“I never gave him a name, you know? I wanted to, but I couldn’t ever settle on one. Sometimes when I think of him, I imagine him with a different name each time. One day I think of him as James, and then another day as Henry, or Richard, or John.” 

“What is his name today?” 

“Henry. My little Harry.” 

“Henry Platt. Harry to those who love him.” Carlisle smiled softly. “With light curls like his mother.” 

She rested her head on his shoulder. Old wounds didn’t sting, but the ache of them weighed heavy in the bones. “You would have been a good father to him in another life.” 

There were butterflies in his stomach again as the image of him and Esme surrounded by their natural children swept through his mind. He would have liked that. “With you at my side, I think you might be right. You’ve helped me to become a better father to Edward, a  _ much _ better father. I think before you joined us, neither of us really knew what we were to each other; I was his creator and guide and I wanted to be more than that, but he didn’t know what it was to have a loving father. Neither of us did, I don’t think. But then you appeared, and… and you showed us how to be a family.” 

“I don’t think that was me,” she argued gently. “Maybe you just needed more time together to figure it all out.” 

Carlisle pressed his lips to her hair again and smiled. “You underestimate yourself, love. You’re the heart of our family, we wouldn’t be  _ us  _ without you. It  _ is _ you.”

“Whatever it was, I’m glad it’s worked itself out now. Oh! Did you give him the rings yet?” 

“Yes, he has the rings.” Edward was Carlisle’s best man, as if it could be anyone else. He had stayed as far away from the wedding planning as possible, but he had agreed to this with good humour. “I gave them to him.” 

“You don’t have to wear one, I know most men don’t-”

“I am not most men,” he chuckled quietly. “I can hardly wait to wear that ring.” 

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him, happiness radiating from her. “Really?” 

“Really, really. And should anyone ever ask why I wear it, I won’t be able to stop myself from telling them about my wife. Ah,  _ wife. _ Doesn’t that feel good?” 

She laughed softly. “It’s nice to hear you say it.” 

“Oh, return the favour, Esme, let me hear you call me your husband.” 

“Not until tomorrow.” 

He shifted to face her on the pew and tilted his head to the side as he teased her. “Oh, please! Be kind to me, my love, let me hear such sweet words!” 

“Oh, stop!”

“Alas, my mistress is cruel!” he lamented, clapping his hand over his chest in mock-pain. “A knife, a knife to my heart!”

She laughed louder, earning her a disapproving look from the reverend who was arranging his papers on the pulpit. “We’re in  _ church, _ Carlisle!” 

He snorted and settled down. “This is the house of God, my love, and as of late, He and I have been on good terms. I don’t think he would resent my happiness in His halls.” 

“Maybe not, but Reverend Symonds might.” 

They both looked up at the pulpit and ducked their heads again in muffled laughter. Neither of them could stop joy spilling from them. 

Footsteps approaching down the aisle made Esme turn her head and one of her friends was approaching with a smile. “We’re all finished, Esme, Doctor Cullen. What do you think?” 

Esme stood up and went to the aisle next to the woman and cast her eyes around the church. Carlisle had set aside quite the budget for flowers and arrangements had been pouring into the church all day, and all around them they bloomed. White ranunculus and peonies and sweet peas were clustered in every soft arrangement, bundled on the end of every pew and spreading across the altar. The plinths either side were wrapped with ivy and ferns and dotted with daisies, and huge bouquets spilled in pairs at the north and south doors of the church. The flowers were everywhere. The white and green looked beautiful against the grey stone, and the smell was delightful. “Oh my,” Esme breathed. 

“You ladies have done a fine job,” Carlisle said as he moved to Esme’s side, and he smiled at the woman. “We are deeply grateful.”

“Thank you so much,” Esme said, eyes wide. “We didn’t expect you to-”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” the woman said smugly, waving away Esme’s remark with a hand. “It’s a tradition in our congregation; the wives always decorate the church with the flowers, because who knows this place better than us?” 

Esme smiled kindly. “Well, quite. And you’re sure you don’t mind distributing them afterward? I’m sure we could hire someone if not-”

“Absolutely. I’ve left your list in the vestry for after the ceremony and we’ll take care of it. Flowers to the elderly and sick members of the congregation, and then the women’s shelters in town. Anything leftover to the children’s homes. Are you  _ sure _ you don’t want to keep any for yourselves?”

“Oh, yes, we’re sure, thank you. We’re traveling the day after the wedding and we wouldn’t be able to enjoy the bloom.” The flowers would be better appreciated by others, anyway, Esme was sure. 

“How lovely!” the woman remarked, eyeing them with interest. “Anywhere nice?” 

“It’s a surprise,” Carlisle answered, and he couldn’t hide his glee. “Miss Platt let me arrange the honeymoon and I’m doing everything I can to keep it secret until we arrive!”

“How romantic. My husband would never think of anything like that.” She gave Carlisle an approving look, her eyebrow twitching. There was a look in her eye that reminded Esme of Kate. The woman’s heart rate increased when Carlisle met her gaze. “You hang onto this one, Esme, he’s quite the catch.” 

It would have been mean-spirited to laugh but Esme wanted to, badly. If only her friend knew the half of it! “I mean to.” 

“Well, yes.” There was a flush in the woman’s cheeks. She smelled nice. Behind her, the other women stood waiting with their coats and hats on, and Esme and Carlisle walked over to them to offer them their thanks. “Now the flowers are done, we’ll be off, but we’ll be back for the ceremony tomorrow evening. Actually, I think most of the congregation will be. They all like you, you know.” 

Carlisle smiled. “We have been made to feel very welcome here, Miss Platt especially. Thank you for taking her under your wing, ladies, it means a great deal.” 

Esme nodded shyly. “Thank you. And thank you for all the work to make the church look so beautiful, it’s perfect.” 

“It’s our pleasure.” 

They said their goodbyes to the women who left and then the church was quiet again. The reverend was in the vestry, and it was only them in the main hall now. Carlisle turned to Esme and held her hand. “This is really happening.” 

“It is.” 

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I love you.” The words were heavy. 

“As I love you.” 

“Pray with me?” 

She nodded and they slowly approached the altar beneath the west window. Stone wasn’t hard to them and they kneeled side by side. Together they murmured the Lord’s Prayer, and Psalm 23. Esme whispered a prayer for her lost son and Carlisle murmured words of Saint Augustine. When their final prayer closed, they both took deep breaths, a calm washing over them. It felt good to be close to each other, and close to God. Hand in hand they left the church and went into the night. 

* * *

“No, no, _no!”_

Kate and Tanya were arguing over Esme’s hair. The afternoon sun was spilling through the windows in the house and it made their skin shine and Esme was too high in the sky to care much about her hair. Carlisle, Edward, and Eleazar had gone for a final celebratory hunt and would meet them at the church. Tanya, Kate, Irina and Carmen would travel to the church with Esme but she had chosen not to have a bridal party, and she would walk down the aisle alone. 

“Move  _ over,  _ you’re doing it all wrong!”

Esme sighed happily as hands tugged at her hair and she pointedly ignored them. 

Carmen dabbed rouge on her cheeks to try to create the illusion of blushing, but Esme didn’t see the point as make up always dissolved on vampire flesh within a few hours. It was nice to feel the brush on her skin, though, so she didn’t say anything to stop her. “How are you feeling, cariña?”

“Good.” 

Irina smiled at her on her other side. She was painting Esme’s nails a neutral colour that would not stand out, but she was having trouble making the lacquer stick. Vampire biology didn’t seem to agree with human cosmetics. “Do you have any questions for us?” she asked.

“Should I have any?” Esme opened her eyes and glanced at Irina curiously. Kate and Tanya wouldn’t let her turn her head. 

“Well, have you… been intimate with Carlisle?” Carmen asked sweetly. 

Esme opened her mouth in surprise and closed it again, blinking. She tried again. “I-! No, but… he’s not my first. I… I imagine things work… the same? As humans?” 

Irina smiled and Kate scoffed. “It’s much better. Vampires feel so much more than humans and sex works the same. It’ll blow your mind, Esme.” 

“If Carlisle does his part,” Tanya snickered. 

“Bah!” Kate waved a dismissive hand. “Whether he lasts to see you through, you can handle yourself, can’t you, Esme?” 

Esme pressed a hand to her forehead and laughed. “Oh, Kate! If it were possible, you’d make me blush more than anyone!” 

“You should be realistic about these things.” Kate came to stand in front of her while Tanya worked on her hair, and she waved about the comb in her hand as she spoke. “It wouldn’t do you any good to expect the world from him when he’s barely looked at a woman for two hundred and fifty years, let alone fucked one. Don’t put that pressure on yourself or him, it’ll only set you up for disappointment. We’ve told Eleazar to have a talk with him about what to do and I’m sure Eleazar won’t leave out any detail, but it’s whether Carlisle will listen or not that matters.” 

Poor Carlisle. So he was getting a similar pre-nuptial pep talk too, was he? Esme laughed again. “Does Eleazar mind having that discussion with him? Isn’t that… quite private?” 

The women laughed as if she had said something ridiculous. “It’s only sex!” Tanya exclaimed. “Why the big secret? Surely you and Carlisle have talked about it anyway!”

“Once,” Esme admitted. “Very briefly.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “What did you say?” 

Esme thought back to when she had kissed Carlisle and pressed him against a wall and he had asked her to make love to him. That was as far as any discussion had gone. “Very little. Nothing of substance. Just that we should wait until we were wed.” She laughed when Kate rolled her eyes again and she reached out for her hand. “Oh, don’t look at me like that! I can’t help it, it’s just how I was raised, and the society I come from! We can’t all be wild warriors who have their way with whoever they want, whenever they want!” 

Kate grinned. “I know, I know. You’re all so repressed nowadays, it’s ridiculous!” 

“Truly terrible, I’m sure. But you think Eleazar will… prepare him?” 

Carmen stroked the pink rouge on her other cheek and leaned in close to watch the powder settle on her skin. “Eleazar will explain the sensations Carlisle should expect. Sex is different when you love someone, especially for our kind. It can change you. It changed me.” 

The sisters were suddenly very quiet. Perhaps, despite all their bravado, they all wondered what it would be to share themselves with a mate, rather than just a distraction. Carmen and Eleazar were so deeply and passionately in love, it would be enough to make anyone without a partner wonder what that must be like. 

“In what way?” 

“It’s hard to say.” Carmen’s expression was so soft when she talked about her mate. “I loved him deeply before we ever lay together, he was already the centre of my world. But after, it… it was different. It was more. It was… like seeing the sun for the first time, or… or seeing the face of God. His soul became entwined with mine, I think, and I no longer know where mine ends and his begins.” 

Esme contemplated that for a moment, letting it sink in. It was a revelation, indeed, and quite the claim. Sex had never been especially wonderful for her before, and if anything, it put pressure on her. Was Carlisle hearing the same story? Was he expecting her to perform this miracle? She swallowed. 

“Yes,” Tanya said as she pinned soft curls into place, “but did he make you c-”

“Tanya!” Carmen laughed. “Don’t tease!” 

Esme hid her face in her hands as her beloved cousins laughed and joked, but Irina gently tugged her hands away to continue painting her nails. “It’ll be alright,” she soothed. “Your body works just the same as when you were human. It’ll know what to do.” 

“Maybe. But will I?” 

“Of course you will,” Kate answered, not teasing anymore. “And if not, then just take it slow. Talk it through, see what works and what doesn’t. It might not be a whirlwind of passion and lust but that’s okay too, it doesn’t  _ have _ to be. You’ve got eternity for all that, don’t put pressure on yourself.” 

She nodded. “You’re right. He’ll be my husband. We should always be honest with one another.” 

“Good girl,” Kate said, slapping her knee. “That’s the spirit. Oh! Tanya! What are you _ doing _ to her? No, no, that looks ghastly!”

Kate and Tanya went back to arguing over Esme’s hair and she relaxed back in the chair again. She didn’t like the squabbling per se, but there was an intimacy in it that was so soothing, like being around sisters, and she found herself wishing again that they could all live together but there was something about the groups that made them fundamentally incompatible for long periods of time. None of them could put their finger on what it was, but it caused no ill-will and so was a non-issue. Still, it was nice to be surrounded by the love of these women. 

Eventually, Kate and Tanya agreed that her hair was done, and Esme was able to get into her dress. It was a simple dress, and very different from the one she had worn at her first wedding. The silk of the dress fell to the floor and pooled around her feet, the train stretching out behind her in a wide circle. The bodice was structured and flattering, shoulders slightly peaked to balance out her hips, and the sleeves covered her arms down to her wrists. The veil was attached to a lace cap that Tanya secured into her hair with a few pins and it surrounded her, soft and delicate. Esme looked at the woman in the mirror, a vision in ivory, sleek and curved and beautiful. When she smiled, the woman smiled back. She looked rather beautiful. Outside, the sun was dipping below the horizon. It was time. “Alright. I’m ready.” 


	19. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlisle and Esme finally get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for such a quick update since the last, this chapter was already mostly written and it was one of the most satisfying. The wedding ceremony itself is a bit of a blend of denominations and isn't wholly accurate as it was mostly based on the structure and prayers of an Anglican wedding (I am from the UK and only have experience with English churches) so I do apologise if that is a little distracting. 
> 
> Once again I would like to thank you for the overwhelming support that has been shown to this fic. I didn't think anyone would be interested in it, and I am taken aback by how kind so many of you have been. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope I do not disappoint you! I hope you are all having safe and happy holidays. 
> 
> This chapter includes substantial mentions of faith and God.

Compared to her beautiful gown, their arrival at the church was less than ceremonious. Kate parked the car on the street outside and popped the trunk to hand Esme her bouquet, and the four women darted inside after wishing her the best of luck. She kissed their cheeks and thanked them for being with her, and they gave her their love. It warmed her, and gave her courage.

In the small lobby of the church, Esme stood frozen. This was it. Carlisle was just the other side of those doors and he was waiting for her, he was waiting to make her his wife. The butterflies were in her stomach again, and venom spread through her like adrenaline, but it felt  _ good. _ She had to wait for the organ to begin playing the wedding march before walking down the aisle, but it was nearly impossible to wait. She just wanted to run through those doors and take Carlisle into her arms and say “I do!” at the same time as him and be done with it! She wanted to be his  _ wife! _ A wide smile spread across her face and Esme nearly leapt for joy on the spot. It didn’t matter that the church was full of thick heartbeats, and it didn’t matter that her throat ached. It didn’t matter that a hundred pairs of eyes would soon be fixed on her. None of it mattered but him! Nothing could dampen that! 

She took in another steadying breath and smelled the flowers in the air, the stone of the church and the scent of their human guests. Through it all, she could taste Edward and Carlisle in the air - they must have used this entrance when they arrived, too. Esme checked the waterfall of flowers that made up her bouquet and, as was expected, not a flower was out of place. She tried not to grip the handle too hard. 

Nerves were beginning to seep into her excitement. That could not be allowed to happen. One. Two. Three. Carlisle was waiting. Four. Five. Si-

The familiar chords that sounded Wagner’s  _ Bridal March _ blasted suddenly through the air, and the sound of a hundred people getting to their feet followed. With a creak, the east door was opened. Esme’s heart felt like it should be pounding but there was stillness in her chest, no indication that there was anything below her ribs save for the tugging she felt at that golden thread. Slowly, carefully, reminding herself not to run, Esme began the walk up the aisle. Either side of the aisle, familiar faces watched her walk, smiling and whispering, but she couldn’t see anyone. Because at the steps of the altar, with Edward at his side, Carlisle stood waiting for her. 

And it was like looking at the sun. 

She didn’t notice his fine morning coat and his tidy blue cravat, or the peony in his button hole that matched the flowers in her hand. She didn’t see the shine in his shoes or his slicked hair, or Edward beaming at his side. All Esme could see was his smile. Brighter than daybreak, bigger than the sky. It was overwhelming. He stood with his hands behind his back, watching her, drinking her in, and he bit his lip as if to stop himself from laughing in absolute delight. She did the same. If either of them could weep, they would both be in tears. 

It didn’t matter that she had none of her natural family here, or that she walked this path alone. She might enter this church by herself, but she would leave this place with Carlisle at her side. The organ blared out the familiar tune and with a great deal of effort, she reached the steps of the altar and came face to face with him.

“Esme,” he breathed when her long walk was over. 

She peeked up at him from under her veil, and squeezed her bouquet and imagined it was his hand. “Hello.” 

The reverend began when the organist finished on a triumphant chord. “May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost be with you,” 

Carlisle, Esme, and the congregation joined him; “and also with you.” 

“God is love, and all those who live in love live in God and God lives in them.” 

The prayers continued, and the first hymn, How Great Thou Art. Both Carlisle and Esme loved the joy in it. She could hear Carlisle and Edward’s voices, both triumphant and clear and loud. She wanted to weep again. The congregation sat when it finished, and the reverend began the words that had Esme’s stomach in knots. 

“In the presence of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, we have come together to witness the marriage of Carlisle Cullen and Esme Anne Platt, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share the joy and to celebrate their love. Marriage is a gift…” 

_ I love you, _ she wanted to shout. She wanted to turn to him and look at him, but manners dictated they remain facing forward, she couldn’t even touch him yet. The way that he leaned closer to her told her that Carlisle felt the same. She smiled, biting her cheeks to stop from crying out her elation.

“... vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully wed, you must declare it now.” 

Carlisle and Esme glanced at each other and beamed. No, there was no reason, earthly or heavenly, that they could not be wed. It was for this reason that they waited until that man was in the pits of Hell before getting married - neither of them could lie now in a house of God. Not when it was something this important. They held their silence and the reverend smiled. The sermon was short, speaking of love and the holiness of marriage, and the declarations were then made. Esme could hardly wait for the vows. At last it came to it, and the reverend smiled again. He knew they had practiced their vows, and they did not need his prompts. 

“Now, turn to one another, and speak your vows.” 

Esme took in a deep breath and Irina crept behind her to take her bouquet. She smiled in gratitude at her friend and then cast her eyes up at Carlisle. He was celestial. It was almost impossible to think - he consumed her entirely. 

“I, Carlisle Cullen,” he began, his voice clear and ringing. It filled the church as if he wanted to shout it to the heavens, to let the world hear what he had to say. He gripped her hands and smiled at her like he had never smiled before. Like he, too, was only now seeing the sun. “Take thee, Esme Platt, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.” 

There were the words. The words that bound him to her. Impossible that he had chosen her. But his golden eyes bore into her and she knew it was true. Her voice was quieter but no less triumphant. “I, Esme Platt, take thee, Carlisle Cullen, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my troth.” 

There was a pause and then Edward was at Carlisle’s side. The reverend held out the Bible and Edward placed the matching gold bands there. Against all proper manners and behaviours, he kissed Esme’s cheek and a ripple of laughter went through the congregation. As far as all the humans knew, Edward was Carlisle’s best man and Esme’s brother. She nudged him and he went back to his seat next to Tanya.  _ Thank you Edward, I love you so much.  _

“Heavenly Father, by your blessing let these rings be to Carlisle and Esme a symbol of unending love and faithfulness, to remind them of the vow and covenant which they have made this day through Jesus Christ our Lord.” 

“Amen,” the congregation answered. 

Carlisle took in a deep breath and held Esme’s left hand. Taking the smaller of the two rings, he slipped the ring onto her finger where it sat snug. He held it there and their eyes were locked. “Esme,” he said quietly this time, speaking just for the two of them. “With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow; in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”

It took all of her control to keep herself together. Everything felt so much, but in a way that had never been so good. A long moment went by without either of them saying anything and she let it settle in her mind. She would remember this moment for the rest of eternity, every tiny detail. He knew this; he didn’t rush her. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and it was reassuring that this was all real. 

She carefully took the second ring and held his left hand, slipping it over his finger and holding it there as he had done for her. “Carlisle. With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow; in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”

The moment had not settled before the proclamation came. “In the presence of God and before this congregation, Carlisle Cullen and Esme Anne Platt have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife.” The reverend joined their right hands together and raised his voice. “Those whom God has joined together let no man tear asunder.” 

The rest of the ceremony was smooth. In the eyes of God they were now married, and that was good enough for them. They knelt, still clasping hands, for the blessing, and rose together for the signing of the certificate. It was a moment of respite to be able to retreat to the privacy of the vestry and away from prying eyes. Edward was their witness and after Esme and Carlisle had signed their names, Edward added his at the bottom of the document. 

“You’re doing marvelously,” the reverend said with a kind smile, a contrast to his preaching persona. That was part of why they liked this church so much; everyone was so personable, at least underneath all the stuffiness. “Do you need a few more minutes before continuing?” 

Esme shook her head. “No, thank you, Reverend. I would just very much like to be his wife.” 

“You are,” Edward reminded her, and she couldn’t help but throw her arms around her son and squeeze him tight. 

“I am!” 

Carlisle laughed and stroked her back and the reverend looked away delicately. 

“Come on, you two, let’s make it official,” Edward said as she let him go, and he squeezed both of their hands. “At last.” 

Edward left the vestry first and returned to his seat on the front pew and Esme and Carlisle followed the reverend out, arm in arm. 

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured quietly to her as they walked carefully to the steps of the altar. Two chairs had been provided for them to sit whilst prayers were spoken, and she smoothed her dress as she sat next to him. They held hands during the prayers and Esme squeezed his hand, and together they knelt for the Lord’s Prayer. Familiar words brought comfort to them both, and as she spoke the words “for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory” she felt something in her move. Carlisle stroked her hand with her thumb and she took in a deep breath, sure in her faith that their God smiled upon them. He forgave them their sins; they had His blessing. 

After a lifetime, and no time at all, the reverend looked to Carlisle and Esme and they stood again, side by side, hand in hand, and waited for the dismissal. “Go into the world, and do good,” he told them quietly, peering over his glasses at them. They smiled warmly, thankful for the sweet words of a man of God. “Go forth in stewardship and fellowship, and be happy.” 

Carlisle squeezed Esme’s hand and whispered back “thank you, Reverend.” 

The old man nodded and gave them a kindly wink. Then he looked beyond them and spoke to the congregation. “May the Lord bless thee and keep thee and cause His face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee peace. May the blessings of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost be with you now and evermore. Amen.” 

There was a pause, and then suddenly the silent church was filled with the traditional triplets of Mendelssohn and Carlisle and Esme looked at each other in pure jubilation. The rich music of the organ echoed in the stone hall and hand in hand, Carlisle and Esme walked out of the church. On the steps before anyone else had come out, he kissed her. He bent over her until she was completely in his arms, her hands at the back of his neck, and they pressed blinding kisses to each other’s lips. When he pulled her back upright and broke the kiss he laughed, and his chest swelled with dry sobs, and they hugged each other tight. 

“My wife,” he whispered, choked. “My wife, my wife!” 

Edward was the first guest out of the church and he practically ran into them on the top step just outside of the door. Esme cried without tears and pulled him into their embrace and they stood in the doorway like that for a moment, and they didn’t care about the people who began queuing to get out. The three of them were all laughing and crying tearlessly and Esme thought she might die from happiness, it was too much for one person to bear. Maybe she had died and was in heaven. 

Eventually they broke apart and took on their role of gracious newlyweds and a line formed of wedding-goers who wanted to kiss the bride and shake the hand of the groom. It was a slow process that Esme and Carlisle resented only a little bit, and they wholeheartedly thanked every person who had come to see them get married. Old men with moustaches, young women with babies, middle aged couples and well behaved children, they all had kind words for them, and despite the time it took for the church to empty, Esme was glad to be surrounded by so many well-wishes. Lots of people stood around the front of the church after saying their farewells to the happy couple but that didn’t matter, they had done their bit. 

Their northern cousins were some of the last to come out and their words were the kindest, their embraces the most welcome. Esme held Irina, her favourite, the longest. “I’m so glad you’re all here,” she whispered into platinum hair. “It means the world to me.” 

“We wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Irina replied happily, and she held Esme tight and rocked her until they were both laughing. She pulled back and stroked a stray lock of hair from Esme’s face. “There are only a few hangers on, and then we need to get to the studio for the photos, alright? After that we’ll go home and change, and head to the Falls.”

Esme glanced up at the clock tower nervously. “A few more? I don’t want to miss our appointment.” 

Irina grinned. “I’ll round them up and get them out, then we can head over. It’d be criminal if we didn’t get photos of you looking so good.” 

“Oh, my darling,” Esme laughed. “Thank you.” She squeezed her hand and watched her friend go into the church to usher out the last of the guests. 

At her side, Carlisle still held her hand as he spoke with Tanya and Eleazar. Carmen and Kate were fetching the cars. “... too long, but we didn’t want a rushed ceremony, either. I would have liked the Sacrament, but…” 

“You didn’t feel like hacking up bread and wine on your wedding night?” Tanya asked playfully. “Can’t imagine why.” 

“There is more than one way to take the Sacrament, Carlisle,” Eleazar said gently, and he looked at Esme. “I think the Lord wishes for us to enjoy life and think of Him, that’s all. I think the obsession with the rite of communion has always been inflated - all we need do is eat and drink and live in a godly way.” 

“Do you not believe in the Body and Blood?” Esme asked, smiling. “I thought you were Catholic?” 

“I was,” he shrugged easily. “But I always struggled to believe in the doctrine of transubstantiation. A little too far fetched for me.” 

“So your body turning cold and hard, and living without a heartbeat and surviving on blood alone is understandable, but the Body and Blood is too far fetched for you?” Tanya interjected with a laugh. “Bah! Eleazar! What a line to draw!” 

“Ah, mi güera, I can see that with my own eyes but never before did I see bread turn flesh! That is where I draw  _ my _ line.” 

Edward appeared at Esme’s side, having dashed off to finalise the payment details with the reverend, and he grinned at his family. “Carlisle and Esme are on the steps of the church at their own wedding and we have chosen to talk about theology?”

“I’m not sure this would count as theology, more-”

“ _Whatever_ it is,” Edward interrupted Tanya with good humour, “I’d rather talk about my parents. My wonderful, beautiful, radiant parents! Married at last!” 

Thankfully none of the humans nearby saw Edward pick them both up and swing them around in a hug and by the time Carlisle laughed in protest they were all back on their feet. Perfectly timed, Irina followed the last group of church-goers out. It was the friends who had arranged the flowers, and Esme went to them immediately. 

“Thank you so much again for all your hard work,” she said to them in all sincerity. Carlisle followed her like a shadow, his hand at the small of her back. Much of her mind was occupied by the sensation, but she managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the ladies. 

“It was our pleasure,” one of them said. “And might I say what a beautiful ceremony? And your dress! Oh! Divine!”

Esme smiled bashfully, still not used to compliments after a decade of them. “Thank you, Mary. You look wonderful, too, you all do.” 

“But nothing on you, dear,” another said warmly. “The most beautiful bride. Doctor Cullen is a lucky man.” 

Carlisle smiled broadly. “The luckiest in the world, and I shall never forget that, ladies. Look at her, my wife! My wife! Ah, that will never grow old!” 

The ladies laughed and blushed and she leaned against him happily. “Thank you again for coming, and for all of your help with the flowers, it was incredibly kind.” 

“No bother at all, as I told you yesterday, it’s tradition. We’ll come back in the morning to distribute them as you asked.” 

“Thank you.” 

A few more words were exchanged and the ladies were on their way, their husbands already down the street smoking as they waited for them. Esme let out a big sigh. “I’m relieved that’s all over.” 

“Our wedding?” Carlisle asked, his eyebrows raised. “Was it such a burden, Mrs Cullen?” There was a glint in his eye - she knew he was only teasing. 

She laughed and nudged him gently. “Not at all. But I’ll be glad to be able to be normal without humans around soon.” 

“Ah, yes, very soon. Anything for my wife. Oh, Esme, that feels so wonderful to say.” 

Edward was talking quietly, all smiles with Tanya and Eleazar and Irina, and Kate and Carmen were just pulling into park. No one was looking at them, no one was paying them any mind. 

“Carlisle,” Esme whispered. She turned to face him and wound her silk-covered arms around his back, curling up under his arms and she rested her hands on his shoulders. He rested his hands at the small of her back. 

“Yes, Esme?”

“I’ve never been happier.” 

He smiled and titled his chin down to kiss her cheek. Where his lips rested, her skin tingled, and knots began to form in her lower stomach. She turned her head and kissed his mouth, not caring that their family was nearby, not caring that they were stood on the street. She reached up to take the top hat from his head and she shielded their faces with it. Hidden, she parted her lips and sighed, and he gently slipped his tongue into her mouth. One hand pressed against her back and she curled up against him and she felt his quiet groan at the back of her throat. 

“Hey!” Kate’s voice called out. Esme ignored her and the knots in her stomach tightened when Carlisle’s tongue slid against hers and she tasted the desire in his venom. Tonight. They would have each other tonight. 

Kate blared the horn and shouted again. Very undignified for a lady, but Kate didn’t much care about that. Esme usually adored her for it. A second horn sounded. “Mr and Mrs Cullen, we’ve got somewhere to be! C’mon, you’ve got the rest of your lives for that, but we’ve only got a short time for your photographs!  _ Oi!” _

The last exclamation had Esme break their deep kiss with a choking laugh. Kate sounded so indignant it was impossible to stay serious, and she swept Carlisle’s top hat back onto his head. “I daren’t make her wait any longer, do you, my husband?” 

He beamed and followed her to the car Kate was driving and held open the door for her. It was a bit of a squeeze with both of them in the backseat with the full skirt of her dress but she could still manage to lean against him despite it. “My wife!” he exclaimed again, and kissed her hair through her veil. “Mrs Esme Cullen!”

Whatever sarcastic comment Kate had thought up, one glance in her rear view mirror silenced her, and Esme was glad for it. Carmen got into the front seat next to her and they pulled away from the curb, the car slipping into the heavy stream of night traffic. Lights turned to blurs as they drove into the city to the studio where their photographs would be taken, and Esme stopped paying attention. 

Carlisle’s arm was around her shoulder and she leaned up against him. They looked into each other’s eyes and no words were needed. His strong hand gently stroked her cheek and his other hand played with her fingers in her lap. He touched her wedding band and smiled, and she rested their foreheads together. Married, at last.


	20. This New Life II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. The longest fic I have ever written, the longest project I have ever stuck with, and the fic I am proudest to have written. Writing this fic has been a real joy. It has come at a difficult time for me, a time that I am still in, and has brought me so much happiness and a real sense of achievement, and I am so glad to have been able to share this with many of you. Thank you most of all to Chase for being my hype man, my soundboard, and my biggest supporter. 
> 
> Thank you to all who have left kudos, or reviewed, or reached out to me directly, I never thought anyone would want to read what I've written and to be proved wrong has been a delight. 
> 
> This is strangely emotional for me. I thought that I would write right up to the beginning of Twilight and maybe I will, but not in this particular fic. More entries will be added to this series, though, so if you enjoyed this fic please keep an eye out. Taking this journey with these characters (as cheesy as that might sound) has been wonderful for me and I will be proud of this for years to come. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the final chapter of This New Life.

Niagara Falls was more beautiful than Esme could have ever imagined. After the photographs were taken and they had changed and made their way over, it was after midnight. There were no humans around, and they had the place to themselves. The plunging waters were so loud that no human would hear them, anyway. With her hand in Carlisle’s, she threw herself from the top of the mighty falls. She felt indestructible. She felt better than she ever had before. 

Everything was how it should be. 

Their family stayed with them, laughing and leaping and swimming in the rushing waters. Kate and Carlisle challenged each other to see who could jump the furthest from the top but it was Edward’s surprise running jump that won the night. Esme and Irina explored the underwater rocks and little coves and Carmen and Eleazar took great delight in hunting them. Carlisle gallantly ‘rescued’ his bride from the embrace of the Spaniards and he swung her onto his back to crawl back up the falls much to the delight of the couple that raced after them. Carlisle and Eleazar wrestled in the water and their wives cheered them on. 

The night sky was clear. After a while they retreated along the banks downstream and settled into a comfortable circle on grass between rocks and dirt, their light voices carrying in the air. Carmen and Kate lounged against Eleazar who had his arms around both of them, and Irina lay with her head in Esme’s lap. Esme played idly with her hair and leaned against Carlisle, and Tanya was on his other side. Edward sat close by, his legs crossed and arms propped up behind him to look up at the sky. Tanya and Kate told stories of their land, of their mother, of the old ways. Esme listened with a full heart to the tales of ancient gods and distant lands, of the different worlds that these women came from. They were like magic, these three, wrapping their friends up in their spells and it lifted Esme’s spirit. If it were still possible, she would have felt sleepy and after a while she closed her eyes, letting the sounds and smells of her friends and the river surround her. Irina’s hair was soft in her hands. Carlisle was strong at her back. 

“Tell us when you first knew,” Kate said after a while. “Was it before or after I propositioned you?” 

A laugh rumbled in Carlisle’s chest. “Which time? And knew what?” 

Kate grinned. “Any time. And what do you  _ think? _ When did you know she was the one?” 

“Her? Who is this  _ her _ you’re talking about?” 

“Your wife, Carlisle.” 

Carlisle’s arm tightened around Esme. “Oh, say that again, Kate!”

“You wife! Your  _ wife!”  _

Laughter rippled around the group and Esme hid her face behind her hair. He kissed her cheek, grinning triumphantly. “I can’t be sure. I think… I think I loved her quickly. How could I not? How could anyone not?” 

The others murmured in agreement. “We adored you as soon as we met you,” Irina concurred, looking up at Esme from her lap. “Even if you didn’t love us back right away.”

Esme stroked hair from her friend’s face and smiled. “I did love you back very quickly. But the three of you were very overwhelming - you appeared out of nowhere, hurricanes, all three of you! You were so unlike anyone I had ever met, it threw my life upside down and that took a long time to adjust to.”

“How so?” 

Esme looked over at Edward and he smiled and nodded. Her gentle gaze turned back to her friends, looking between the sisters. “You were so free and so courageous and so strong. And you talked so liberally about so many things, I… I think you made me believe I could  _ try _ to be like you. You know, the day after you left was the first day I walked in the city? I hadn’t been around humans before then. You made me feel  _ brave.”  _

Carlisle pressed a long kiss to her hair and she closed her eyes. 

“Think how far you’ve come since then,” Irina said gently. “You  _ are _ brave and you  _ are _ strong. You just stood for an hour in a building with a hundred humans and you weren’t even tempted!”

“I think that might have been due to a significant distraction,” Esme laughed. 

“Oh?” Carlisle asked innocently. “What distraction was that, then?” 

Esme stretched out her hand where the new wedding band joined her engagement ring. “Well, I don't know if you have heard, but I recently got married.”

“How interesting. What is the lucky man like?” 

She shared another look with Edward and he was grinning. She stroked her finger down Irina’s forehead and nose and back up and weaved her fingers through her hair. “Rich.”

Loud laughter broke out around the group and Carlisle pressed her sides in retaliation, making her jump and lodging Irina from her lap. Esme squirmed and elbowed him and he pulled her into his lap, laughing with the rest of them. “Is that all?” 

“Yes!” she laughed and he pressed his hands against her sides again. “And persistent!”

Irina laughed along with the others and shifted to lie with her head in Eleazar’s lap instead. “How many times did you propose to her, Carlisle?” 

He held her tight and she wrapped her arm around the back of his neck to stay upright. It felt incredible to be so free with him now. It was as if saying their vows and signing their marriage into law lifted a burden that neither of them had known they carried; like a barrier between them had been broken. It excited her. 

“Twice, I think. Unless some of the other times counted, too?” 

She laughed. “You make me sound so cruel, making you propose so many times!”

“As if you needed to,” Edward said, chuckling. “You could have just booked the church and Esme would have shown up.” 

“Maybe so,” Carlisle agreed, running his hand down her arm and catching her hand, “but she deserved a diamond.”

“Quite a few diamonds,” Carmen corrected, eyes sparkling in approval. “It is a very beautiful ring, Carlisle, you have wonderful taste.” 

“In jewelry and women,” Kate said with a laugh. Esme turned her face away and Carlisle’s shoulders shook with his own laughter. “Do you have good taste in honeymoon destinations?”

“Ah, now you know that’s a surprise.”

“Don’t you want to know  _ at all _ where you’re going?” Irina asked. 

Esme smiled. “I do, but I also trust Carlisle. I haven’t been surprised like this before, and I am a bit nervous, but,” she paused, looking at her husband, “I’m excited. We have also decided that if the suspense is too overwhelming, Carlisle will tell me.”

It was very difficult to let go and trust Carlisle so blindly but she had wanted to do it. That made all the difference, she supposed. When control was taken away from her and not offered back it was unbearable - when that control was still in her grasp, enjoyment was brought back. 

“Besides, I promise to write. As soon as we arrive I’ll send you a letter.”

“You’d better not,” Kate scoffed. “You’ve got more important things to do than write to us. Edward’ll tell us as soon as you’re gone anyway, won’t you?” 

He grinned. “Of course. Eleazar already knows, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Eleazar replied delicately and the others laughed, although Kate groaned. 

“Ever the noble spirit,” she complained and she whacked his leg. He squeezed her side and was rewarded with a light shock to his neck. He yelped and laughed and messed her hair like an affectionate brother and Esme watched them contentedly. She loved being around them and feeling like part of a family. 

They stayed out all night and only when orange light began spilling from the horizon did they begin the run back to the house. The hundred-mile run didn’t take the group long and they were inside before sunrise. It was a cloudless morning but that was no matter, they wouldn’t be outside where anyone would see them. 

After bidding their farewells to their guests - tight hugs and loving kisses and words of thanks and good luck - Edward drove them to the airport on the western side of the city. He parked in the underground lot, well out of the sun, and lifted the bags out of the boot. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind us leaving you?” Esme asked, holding him by the arms. 

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Of course not. It’s only a few weeks, and I’ll have company. Besides, it gives me a chance to update my repertoire - I know how irritating poorly played pieces can be.” He winked and hugged her. 

“I’ll miss you, my darling!” 

“I’ll miss you, too. But don’t rush home, alright? Enjoy the trip. It’ll be lovely.”

Esme touched his cheek before Carlisle pulled him close and hugged him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything. I mean it.” 

They pulled apart and shared a long and meaningful look. Then Carlisle blinked and the moment was over, and he turned his gaze to Esme. There was longing in his eyes, and excitement. “Are you ready?” 

Esme smiled broadly, barely able to contain her own nerves. “Yes. Let’s go.” 

For appearances’ sake Carlisle carried both of the large suitcases and Esme resented that she could not hold her new husband’s hand, but after checking in his hands were free and she took one of his into both of hers. There was a bounce in her step that made her skirt flow about her legs and she almost forgot about the hundreds of human heartbeats around her that made her throat ache. He looked at her with golden eyes and the world disappeared. 

“Montana?” she asked when their gate was called. 

“It’s just a stop in the road,” he told her. They were seen onto the plane and Esme was pleased with the spacious seating in first class. Her first time travelling was going well so far. 

“Where could we be going that Montana is just a stop?” she mused. Sat next to each other and hidden away from prying eyes, Esme played with Carlisle’s fingers and tried not to think about the knot in her stomach, or the need in his gaze. She glanced up at him and saw how he licked his lips, eyes fixed on her mouth. It was difficult to pretend not to notice. “If we were flying anywhere else, surely we would have gone through Atlanta. Are we leaving the US?”

“Would you like me to tell you?” he asked with a grin. 

Esme shook her head and leaned closer to him. “No, no, I’m just thinking. Hm. Are we driving from there?”

“Where could we take a drive to?” 

“Hmm. What’s in Montana?”

“Not an awful amount. Wheat, barley, and hay, I believe. Perhaps I am taking you on a bread-making trip! I’m not sure anything like that exists but perhaps it should.”

She laughed quietly. The plane began moving, starting its taxi to the runway. She swallowed, tensing. 

“Are you alright?” Carlisle murmured, not grinning anymore. 

“Yes, I think so. I’ve not flown before.” She squeezed his hand and he smiled at her. 

“Just breathe. Nice and slow, it’ll be fine. It’ll be wonderful.”

She did as he gently guided and whilst it kept her mind off the tin can that was about to launch them into the sky, she was all-too aware of the dozens of humans stuck on that tin can with them. It made her throat burn. “Could you please tell me something to distract me?” she asked. It reminded her of the first time she had walked among humans years ago. Before Edward had left, before Charles had appeared, before much of anything. How much had changed, and all for the better. 

“What would you like me to tell you?” 

“Everything.”

During the four hour flight, Carlisle did tell her everything. He told her of their love story as he saw it, from the moment he saw her, to the moment they said their vows. It was easy to see how distracting the concentrated scent of humans was and how suddenly it had become overwhelming. They held hands, played with fingers, touches occasionally drifting up the forearm. When no one was looking, they shared kisses that were short and increasingly deep. Carlisle shifted in his seat and pulled his jacket over his lap and Esme knew why - in this enclosed space where every sensation was inexplicably magnified, she felt desire, too. It made her eyelids heavy, her heart swell. 

They landed and made their way through the airport and to the car hire stand. Carlisle collected the keys and Esme looked out of the huge windows on the south wall. Beyond the runway and roads, mountains rose in the distance. Of course! America’s greatest jewel was in this country, where the horizon met the sky. 

“Yellowstone?” she asked excitedly. 

With the car keys in his hand he also took their suitcases and smiled. “Yes. That’s where we’re headed.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that! I suppose I always think of the park in Wyoming!”

Her glee made him so happy. “You’re right, but this is the closest airport. We’re right on the border of the two states. The entrance is only about seventy miles from here. Would you like to drive?” 

Esme cast an eye over the purring machine on the curb in front of them. It was cream with a forest green accent, and it looked expensive. Carlisle was looking at it with a glint in his eye and she laughed. “No, thank you. Go ahead, enjoy it.” He clearly hired this machine for his own benefit and his self-indulgence delighted her. 

“Ah, thank you!” He stole a kiss from her that made her laugh again and then he left the suitcases with the attendant who strapped them to the back. Carlisle opened the passenger door for her and offered his hand to her to help her climb in and she would have blushed if she could. He had a word with the attendant at the back of the car and Esme saw him pass a generous tip to the young man. He liked to do that. He had enough money to keep them more than comfortable, and it would burden him with guilt if he did not give generously. The front seat was one long cushion and it allowed her to sit close to him when he got in the driver’s side. 

“A Hudson Seven Roadster,” he sighed happily and he stroked the wheel. “Magnificent, isn’t it? Finest on the market, you know! Doesn’t it just look like something that belongs in the English countryside? I think it’s much more elegant than the Ford.” 

Esme laughed. She didn’t care much for cars but Carlisle did and she cared for Carlisle. “It’s a beautiful machine, I can tell that much! Perhaps if you like it during the trip I could buy you one for your birthday.” 

He looked over at her as he pulled away and he was still smiling. “Oh, but then where would be the surprise?” 

“I could buy it for you six months early. That’d surprise you.” 

Carlisle laughed loudly and linked their fingers together. 

They drove in comfortable silence. The touch of their skin became louder the closer the mountains loomed, though. It was like the whole universe existed where their skin met. Esme unlaced their fingers and turned Carlisle’s hand palm-up. With a light touch, she traced each long finger, and then down to the creases in his marble skin. His lip caught between his teeth as she grazed their palms together and his fingers curled up to meet hers. It was easy to play with his fingers like that. They didn’t look at each other, not when the country around them was so beautiful, but their bodies turned slightly to face the other. What started as a gentle kiss to his cheek turned to lingering kisses on his jaw, on his neck. It was as if they were in a different world in the car, one where words and looks weren’t needed, where only the touch of their skin existed. The tiniest nose escaped Carlisle’s lips when she nipped his ear. Esme pressed her forehead against his temple and he tilted his head closer to her. 

The air between them was growing thick. Esme felt tension below her stomach as she kissed and touched her husband now and again and she wanted to kiss his lips. He kept his eyes on the road almost robotically. Perhaps he was worried that a shared look would break the spell between them. The road fell away beneath the wheels of the fast car as Esme felt bolder. When she sucked gently just below his ear, he gripped her thigh. He squeezed gently and slid his hand over her skirt to the inside of her leg and her breath hitched. 

Neither dared to take it further. 

When they passed through the west gate to the park, Esme slid back to the right side of the cab and she looked out of windows in awe. It was stunning - green and blue and grey, the yellows and oranges of autumn beginning to touch the leaves. Carlisle seemed to know where he was going and she was content, for the moment, to watch the beauty of this world go by. How glad she was to be alive. Completely and utterly glad. 

The car turned off the main road and eventually, after a number of twists and turns, they found themselves on a dirt track. The poor car would get awfully muddy. It took them a few miles through trees with a lake on their left. Esme could hear the life teeming in the forests and meadows around her and it made her smile. Too early for the hibernation to start, there would be ample feeding opportunities should the need arise. The track curved around a rocky outcrop and they found themselves at their destination. Esme gasped quietly. 

A large log cabin overlooked the huge lake, set back in the trees to shield it from winds and storms. It had a porch wrap around the ground floor and the upper storey had a balcony with views of the water. It was perhaps ill-fitting to call it a cabin as it was almost as large as their Rochester home but the huge logs that made up its walls and foundation and roof made it impossible to think of it as anything but. Esme was enchanted. Wildflowers lined the front path and after Carlisle parked she took slow steps towards the cabin, letting her fingers run over the flora. It was cloudy overhead but the faint shimmer in her skin was a contrast to the mattes of the grasses and flowers.

“Do you like it?” Esme turned and saw Carlisle standing at the front of the car, looking nervous. “Would… would you choose this if… if you had planned our trip?” 

She beamed and ran to him. He caught her in his strong arms and she laughed. “It’s perfect! Utterly perfect!” 

Still in his arms, she turned back to face it and he hugged her from behind. His head rested on her shoulder. “I’m glad. I know your favourite places are mountains and forests. I didn’t think anywhere else could be better.” 

She leaned back against him. “Thank you.” 

He kissed her head. “Come, let’s fetch the bags and we can see inside.” 

They grabbed one suitcase each and headed into the cabin, Esme leading the way. Inside was a traditional home layout - the dining room and living room were separate, and the kitchen was tucked at the very back along with a small bedroom. “I think this house was designed with certain families in mind,” Carlisle explained. “Servants’ quarters are needed for most families who make trips here.” 

“It is quite large.” 

“I didn’t want to feel confined. We’re here for a few weeks, and… well, it’s nice to have some space, should it be needed.” 

Esme smiled at him. They liked to be close most of the time, but sometimes it was nice to have the room to herself. It was very considerate of him. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” 

They made their way upstairs and Esme headed into the east facing bedroom, the one with the balcony, and set her suitcase on the bed to begin unpacking. She had to take a steadying breath, the nerves and excitement of what was to come threatening to make her giddy. 

“I’ll, ah, use one of the other rooms,” Carlisle said from the doorway. Esme turned to see him walk down the hallway and she flitted after him. 

“Why?” Suddenly the nerves weren’t so pleasant. 

His hand was on the knob of a room three doors down and he looked up at her, expression unreadable. He didn’t look happy, at least. “Well, I… I didn’t want to presume…?” 

“What would you like to do?” She wanted to tell him not to be silly, to come to their bedroom and unpack his clothes and hang them next to hers, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was another example of him wanting to give her space. But she didn’t want space. 

“I… whatever you would like.” 

Esme winced. “Please, Carlisle. Speak honestly - what would you really like?” 

He looked down. “I would like to share a room with you.” 

Light footsteps led her to his side and she took his suitcase. “That is what I would like, too.” 

Relief washed over his young face and he followed her to the master suite. She put his back next to hers and they unpacked in silence. Underneath her day clothes, Esme saw the paper-wrapped items ordered from the boutique in Rochester. She tried to hide a smile. 

“Would you do me a favour?” she asked. Carlisle looked at her as he hung up a jacket in the wardrobe and smiled. 

“That depends on the favour.” 

“Could you close your eyes for me, until I tell you to open them?” 

He closed them and smiled. “How long will I need to do this?” 

“Only a few minutes.” Esme took the packages in her arms and dropped them on the floor next to a chest of drawers. It took three of them to store all of her orders - perhaps she had gone a little overboard on the lingerie but she hadn’t known what to choose. How was she supposed to know what Carlisle liked? It was doubtful even he knew that. “Alright, it’s safe to look.” 

He opened his eyes and gave her a questioning look. “What were you squirreling away?” 

“A surprise. Please, don’t look in those drawers.”

“What, these ones?” His hand went to the handle and she grabbed his arm with a laugh. 

“Yes, those ones!”

Carlisle grinned as he wrapped his arms around her and tickled her sides and she squirmed and did a poor attempt at escaping his grasp. It didn’t matter who kissed who. The kiss was started and returned eagerly and laughter turned to sighs. But he was chaste, more cautious than he had been in the car. He broke the kiss first and he stroked her hair. “My darling. My wife.” 

She smiled softly. “My husband.” 

“Let’s finish unpacking. And then would you like to go for a walk? There are no trails nearby, so we can always hunt if you’d like, too.” 

Esme’s brows tightened slightly and her smile turned confused. “I… I- yes, that sounds lovely. I’m not thirsty, but a walk will be nice.” She didn’t want to go for a walk, but maybe he was nervous, maybe he needed time. She didn’t. She wanted him. 

* * *

  
  


“Carlisle.” 

Night had come when they returned after their walk. It had been a nice walk, and they had talked and joked. But there was an awkwardness there. Esme so desperately wanted to take his hand but he kept his hands behind his back. She smiled sweetly and from the awed look on his face she knew she had enchanted him. But he hadn’t reached back to her, not once. 

They were back in the bedroom and Carlisle was changing from his dirty trousers to a clean pair in the en-suite. He stuck his head around the door. “Yes?” 

“Have I… is something wrong?” Esme sat on the window seat with her knees up, hugging herself. 

He looked alarmed. “No, my darling, what makes you ask that?” 

“I… I’m probably being silly, I’m sorry, I… please pay me no mind.” 

There was a rustle of fabric as he finished dressing and he was kneeling next to her in an instant. “It’s me, Esme. It’s alright. What are you thinking?” 

She looked down at her new husband, her sweet and kind Carlisle. She sighed. “This is our honeymoon. For years, you’ve wanted to…  _ we’ve _ wanted to… we’ve waited so long but now… I just… did I do something wrong?” 

Carlisle smiled and sighed, looking down. “No, it’s nothing you’ve done. You’re perfect.” He looked up and met her gaze. “Forgive me. It’s me, not you.” 

_ “What’s _ you?”

He licked his lips and swallowed, carefully considering his words. “I’m a little… afraid.” 

Esme swung her legs down and cupped his cheeks, searching his eyes. “My darling, what of?” 

“Of disappointing you. Or hurting you. Or doing wrong by you. Or doing it wrong completely.” 

She closed her eyes in relief that she hadn’t upset him and rested their foreheads together. “You won’t. I trust you.” 

“Esme,” he whispered. “I mean it. I don’t know what to do. I’m very… nervous.” 

She caught his lips in a gentle and brief kiss. “What do you want to do?” 

His hand moved to the back of her neck and he stood up, bending down to keep their lips close. “I want you. That’s all I know.” 

“That’s all you need to know. We can guide each other through the rest.” 

Carlisle nodded. Words failed him. Gently he tugged her to her feet and wrapped her in a close embrace. He buried his face into her neck and placed kisses to her skin. Esme smiled and gently broke away, only to lead him to the mirror. “I need to take my hair down,” she murmured. Her fingers made quick work of the pins in her hair and Carlisle watched her do it. After a moment of hesitation he took off his tie and jacket and folded them neatly on the dresser, and then his shoes came off and found their place by the door. Esme smiled at his tidiness. Finally they were on the same page. 

“Wait,” she called out softly when she saw him begin to unbutton his shirt. He froze and with her hair spilling loose down her back and face, she went to him. “I’d like to do that.” 

Carlisle nodded. He stroked her hair as she unbuttoned his pale blue shirt and she felt him tense when she untucked it from his trousers. Like any well-to-do gentleman he wore a vest under the soft shirt, but when it dropped to the floor his shoulders and arms were bared to her. Esme ran her hand down his bicep and she traced the long gash there. Such violence in his transformation, yet such gentleness in his life. She kissed the icy scar as her hand stroked down his toned stomach and pulled at the vest. 

“Lift your arms,” she murmured. He watched her face as he complied and she took that off him, too, leaving him bare from the waist up. A lump rose in her throat and the tightness in her stomach was distracting and she raked her eyes over him. He was perfect, chiseled from marble, strong and pale and perfect. “Oh.” 

She had never wanted anything more. 

Leaning forward, Esme pressed a kiss to his chest over where his heart once beat. When he sighed, she heard his lips part. It was impossible to stop touching him - her hands explored his stomach, his waist, the dips at the small of his back, the thick muscles of his back and shoulders. They moved under her touch, responding to her skin against his. She kissed down his torso and back up again and he met her with hunger. Hands in her hair held her steady as he kissed her fiercely and she opened her mouth against his in eagerness, their mutual desire washing over her. 

“Carlisle,” she whispered. He caught her tongue between his lips and her fingers dug into his shoulders. When he pulled away slightly she was left gasping for breath she did not need, her head swimming. 

“Let me see you?” For all the desire in him, he framed it as a question, never taking her for granted. She nodded. 

Quick work was made of her dress until she was left in her underwear. She took his hand and led him to the bed and she gently pushed him to sit down. His hands held her when she took her place in his lap and he tore through her bra with eager hands. She laughed into his kisses. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” 

Esme laughed again. “It’s alright, it’s alright, I have others!” 

He carefully held her chin with one hand and looked up at her. “I do love you, Esme.” 

She nodded and kissed him again. When his lips found the scar he had left over her heart she whimpered his name. He grew bolder and pushed her onto her back and he kissed down her stomach and between her legs and freed her of all clothes and she gripped the bedsheets. She tasted herself on his lips after. He moved against her but in the midst of their passion, he asked her to show him. It endeared her to him even more and she nodded and promised him she was glad for this, and he lay beneath her. She guided him and when she felt him inside he groaned. She grasped the headboard above him and it cracked in her hands. He held her and moaned her name louder than she had ever heard him before. 

He came looking in her eyes, shouting her name. When she moved her hand between her legs he shook his head . Still trembling from his overwhelming release, he moved her up to rest over his mouth, and on his fingers and tongue she found her release. She saw stars, she heard the heavens, and a blinding light took her. Carlisle was everywhere.

After, they lay side by side on the bed. Sheets torn, pillows popped, bed frame broken and squeaky, the room was quite the mess. Carlisle traced lazy patterns on her back. She rested her head on his chest. 

“I didn’t know it would be like that.” 

Esme smiled softly. “Nor did I.” 

“Mmm?” 

“It was never like that when I was human.” 

Carlisle stroked the line of her spine. “You are… you’re… God, Esme, it’s impossible to put into words.” 

She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him. His hair was messy thanks to her touch. It made her smile. “I know. I feel the same. Words won’t ever be enough.” 

His voice dropped to a whisper. “I promise you that I will spend the rest of our lives showing you what you mean to me.” 

“You don’t need to. I know.”

His arms wrapped tightly around her and she shifted up to bury her face into his neck. “I’m so glad to have found you,” he breathed. “You are the sun.” 

Esme wound her arms between Carlisle and the bed to return his loving embrace. “As you are to me. God, I would wait forever for you. And I’m glad to be with you now, in this new life.” 


End file.
